


Memory Lost, Love Found

by Aria_Lerendeair



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Angsting, Falling In Love, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaker Jared, Matchmaker West Collins, Memory Loss, Sad Sex Scene, Sass, Single Dad Misha, sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-07-19 22:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7380892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aria_Lerendeair/pseuds/Aria_Lerendeair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is cast overboard during a storm and washes up on shore of Vancouver Island, with no memory or hint as to who he is.  Misha finds him, and ends up taking Jensen in, and before he knows it, Jensen is a part of his life that he isn’t willing to let go of. But when Jensen’s past appears to take hold of him again, will the two of them find a way to be together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY SO - You should all take a look at the amazing and incredible and fantastic art that Clutzy-Cas did for me, because AH. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. 
> 
> [Clutz-Cas](http://clutzy-cas.tumblr.com/%22)
> 
> [INCREDIBLE BANNER ART](http://clutzy-doodles.tumblr.com/post/145377591130/cocklesbigbang-memory-lost-love-found)
> 
> [Additional Art - OH GOD SO ADORABLE](http://clutzy-doodles.tumblr.com/post/145377620285/cocklesbigbang-memory-lost-love-found-fic)

 

 

Jensen exhaled slowly as he relaxed back against the wheel and looked out across the ocean. It felt good to get away from everything, where he didn't have to think and be on display all of the time. Jared thrived on it, and was always happy to cover for him. Of course when he had announced that he was going to spend a week on his yacht, doing his absolute best to get away from the rest of the world, Jared had pouted at him, but told him that it looked like he needed it.

 

He didn't want to know what that meant. But Jared had let him go with only a minimal amount of pouting, so that was good at the least.

 

Jensen gave the wheel a lazy turn and headed for Vancouver Island. It wasn't that far from the mainland and maybe he could dock and find some place to hole up in for a few days so Jared didn't make fun of him for doing nothing but sit on his boat for a week.

 

Unfortunately, he wasn't expecting the storm that snuck up and over the water. Jensen struggled to control the boat as he was battered by higher and higher waves, shivering hard. He hadn't brought the clothing to be able to handle the cold like this.

 

Jensen made for a nearby cove, because at the very least he should be able to beach the boat and find cover.

 

The last thing he saw was a large wave coming up on his port side before it hit the deck and everything went black.

 

~!~

 

"Daddy!!"

 

Misha blinked and stared at West who was bouncing impatiently at the side of the bed. "Yeah? What's wrong?" A loud clap of thunder sounded overhead and Misha looked up, giving a whistle. _Damn_. Thunderstorms, of course. "Scared of the storm?"

 

"No, Dad! There's a man outside on the beach!"

 

Misha opened his mouth to respond and blinked again. "On the beach? Is he surfing? Some people like to surf during storms," he said, flipping the blankets off before standing up and rubbing his hand through his hair. West immediately grabbed his hand and began tugging.

 

"He's not surfing, he's on the _beach_ , Dad, and I think he's hurt!" West said, pulling harder on Misha's hand.

 

Misha moved a little quicker and let West pull him towards the sliding glass door window where you could see the beach. "I don't-" A lightning flash a moment later illuminated the man who it looked like had washed up on the beach and Misha froze.

 

He knelt down in front of West. "West, can you do something for me?"

 

West nodded, biting down on his lip.

 

"I need you to go check on Maison and make sure she's okay. Then I need you to go get all of the blankets out of the spare closet and put them in my room. Can you do that for me?" Misha asked.

 

"Yes," West said, nodding again as he headed for Maison's room.

 

Misha ran back to his room and shoved his feet into the first pair of shoes he saw and grabbed a hoodie before running out and onto his porch, hurrying down the steps to the cove.

 

It took a minute of running on the hard, wet sand before he reached the man laying face down. Misha slid to a stop next to him and flipped the guy over, pressing his fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. A faint one fluttered under his fingers.

 

"You're a lucky bastard," he muttered, immediately helping the guy turn onto his side when he started to cough up water. A wave hit his shoes and Misha looked out at the water. "Come on, we've got to get you inside and warm." Blue was not a good look on the human skin and this was no exception to that rule.

 

Misha knelt down and picked the guy up, grunting until he managed to catch his balance and head back to the house. The storm was still picking up speed. He'd need to turn on the wood stove in case they lost heating tonight.

 

West opened the door for him and Misha panted out a thank you as he headed for his bedroom.

 

"Can I help?" West called. "I put the blankets on the bed, Dad."

 

"Thanks," Misha said, heading into the bathroom. "But is your sister still sleeping?"

 

"Yeah, Dad. Is he gonna be okay?"

 

"If I have anything to say about it he will be," Misha said, carrying the other man into the bathroom, putting him down into the tub. He immediately turned on the hot shower and started to strip him. Another thought occurred and he looked over his shoulder at West.

 

"You saved his life. Make sure he knows that when you wake up. I bet you can bribe him to buy you at least two toys," Misha said, winking at West.

 

West grinned and nodded. "Okay, Dad. Do you need more help?"

 

Misha pulled off the last of the guy's wet clothing and checked for a pulse and his slow breathing before he shook his head. "I should be good. I need to get him warm, more than anything else. The water is freezing this time of year."

 

He was relieved when West decided he didn't need to ask anymore questions and headed back into the living room. He turned his attention back to Mr. Looking-A-Little-Less-Blue and turned the shower off, and turned the bath on. While the tub was filling up, he frowned when he noticed a small trail of red leaking into the tub.

 

Misha reached out and carefully examined Mr. Blue's hair and pulled his fingers away when the man under him groaned and twisted away from him. "Looks like you hit your head on top of nearly drowning. Man, you are batting one thousand today, aren't you?"

 

He stood up and grabbed the first aid kit, grabbing gauze before he started dabbing carefully at the wound. Great, he'd have to make sure that he dragged this guy to the hospital tomorrow. Misha pushed his hair off his face and stripped off his wet clothes, leaving them in a pile in the bathroom. He could deal with them later. He had more pressing problems at the moment.

 

By the time the tub was finished filling, the guy was breathing easier and the last of the blue was fading from his face. Misha sank to his knees next to him and relaxed a little. For the first time he let himself look at the other guy and he gave a low whistle as he admired him. "Well, well. I'm sure that someone is going to be looking for you Mr. Handsome."

 

The guy didn't have anything to say, and after a few more minutes, Misha turned the water off and let it drain from the tub before he picked up the guy and got him dried off, dressed in boxers and a tshirt and laying in his bed. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt for himself before he turned back to Mr. Handsome. Misha got him tucked in under the extra blankets West had brought him and decided that was all he could do for tonight until they could go to the hospital tomorrow.

 

He flopped down next to him and opened an eye at the sound in the doorway. Misha managed a smile for West. "Everything okay bud?"

 

West shook his head. "Maison is awake, she's scared of the thunder."

 

Misha breathed out, long and slow. When it rained it poured. "All right. Want to come with me?" he asked, holding out his hand for West.

 

"Yeah," West said, giving his hand a squeeze.

 

Misha smiled and let West lead the way to Maison's room, where she was standing up in her crib, tears tracking slowly down her face as the thunder sounded behind them. "Well hello beautiful. I heard that you were looking for me?"

 

Maison held out her hands immediately. "Daddy!"

 

Misha smiled and picked her up, rocking her into his arms as he sank into the rocking chair by her crib. "Yup, I'm right here and I'll protect you from the big bad storm, I promise," he said, closing his eyes. West moved closer and Misha opened an eye, patting his other knee. "Come on, I know you want to climb on me."

 

West gave him a bright grin and clambered into his lap.

 

Misha hugged the both of them tight and let his head fall back against the chair as he rocked them slowly, humming to them over the noise of the storm. It didn't take long for the both of them to doze off, and Misha carefully tucked Maison and West back into bed, and that their doors were open in case he needed to hear any of them calling for him.

 

He headed back to his bedroom and yawned, taking a long look at Mr. Handsome before he flopped into the bed. After running on the beach, and then carrying all of Mr. Handsome's dead weight up the beach, he was reach to crash. Misha was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

 

~!~

 

He woke up to the sound of a groan and immediately shot up in bed, wincing at the bright sunlight flooding into his bedroom. _Right_. That was probably disturbing for Mr. Handsome. "Hold on, I'll get the light," Misha mumbled, climbing out of bed and heading over to the window to shut the blinds.

 

The room was plunged into darkness a few seconds later and Misha groaned happily. Now if he could only get a few minutes more of sleep...

 

His alarm flipped to six am and began blaring. Misha walked over and turned it off, looking up at the ceiling. "What the hell did I do, come on?" he muttered, padding into the kitchen. He turned on his coffee machine and went into West's room. Looked like he was still sleeping peacefully. _Good_.

 

Well, he wasn't about to go for a run with Mr. Handsome in the house, but he was awake enough that he wasn't going to fall back asleep either. Misha debated what to do and then decided that pancakes for breakfast would be a good treat for a Tuesday. Why not.

 

He grabbed the ingredients he needed and started mixing everything together as the sun finished rising. He kept an eye on the clock and when it hit seven, Misha went over to West's room and nudged him awake. "If you hurry up, I might even save some of the pancakes for you," he called.

 

Misha grinned when that got West out of bed in a hurry. Maison gave a cry in the other room and he turned and went to go get her out of the crib. He got her changed and dressed and brought her out to the kitchen so he could finish the pancakes.

 

He got West and Maison set up with pancakes and syrup and focused on packing their lunches before he thought to go check on Mr. Handsome. Misha peeked into his room quickly and was glad to see that he was still breathing, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

 

"Is he okay?" West asked, spearing another bit of pancake before he shoved it into his mouth. "Or is he gonna die?"

 

Misha choked on his next sip of coffee. "Of course he's not going to die, West!"

 

West broke into giggles and Misha rolled his eyes. Not that he'd ever had any doubts, but West was absolutely his kid. Little shit. "Come on, go brush your teeth, I need to finish getting Maison ready, then I'm going to get you all to school and take our guest over to the hospital."

 

West stuck his tongue out, but finished off his orange juice and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Misha helped Maison finish up and then cleaned up breakfast and took her to brush her teeth as well.

 

West was holding both of their lunches when he finished. Misha nodded at him. "Good. I'm just going to let our guest know that we're dropping you two off at school and then I'll be back for him."

 

Misha slipped back over to the bedroom and opened it. A groan from the bed made him frown. "Hey, just to let you know, if you are anything resembling coherent, I'll be back in twenty. Don't die before I get back, okay? I'd hate to have to bury a body."

 

Misha got the kids dropped off at school and daycare as fast as he could and made it back to his house in twenty one minutes. He headed straight for his bedroom and relaxed when he saw Mr. Handsome was still breathing. Well, that was one thing at least. "All right, let's get you to a hospital and checked out."

 

There was no reply from him, not that Misha had expected one. He went over and started lifting the extra blankets off of Mr. Handsome and got him sitting. Green eyes squinted at him before they drifted shut and he started to sway. "Woah, woah, hold on, we need to get you to my car so we can get you checked out," Misha said, shifting so he could wrap one of Mr. Handsome's arms around his shoulder.

 

He managed to shuffle them both out to the car and got Mr. Handsome into the front seat and buckled him before heading for the local hospital. By the time he got there, he could tell that his passenger was at the very least sporting a fever to go along with that concussion of his.

 

By the time Misha pulled up to the emergency room, Mr. Handsome was shifting uncomfortably in the front seat. Misha leaned on the horn the second he pulled up to the emergency entrance and was glad when a few nurses immediately appeared. He climbed out of the car. "I need a gurney!" he shouted.

 

"What's going on?" Samantha asked, immediately coming up beside Misha. "Did you nearly cut off a finger again?"

 

"No!" Misha said, going around to the passenger side of the car, unbuckling Mr. Handsome. "But this guy washed up on my beach, half-frozen last night, and I couldn't risk coming out in the storm. I got him warm and he slept, but he's been hit on the head, and hasn't been conscious since."

 

Samantha's eyes widened and she immediately turned and ran for the entrance. Misha carefully lifted Mr. Handsome out of the car and put him down on the gurney with a grunt as soon as it was pushed under his arms. He walked up beside the rest of the nurses, pushing his fingers through his hair.

 

"Do you know anything else about him?" Samantha asked as they wheeled him into the ER.

 

Misha shook his head. "He coughed up some water, but not a lot. I was more worried about hypothermia since he had started turning blue. I got him warm and got him buried under blankets."

 

Samantha nodded. "You probably saved his life."

 

Misha gave a weary smile. "West did, not me. West saw him on the beach when the storm woke him up."

 

Samantha gave a low whistle and looked down at their patient. "Want me to call you when he wakes up?"

 

"Yeah, definitely. Now I need to go crash for at least a couple of hours since the storm kept the kids up all night," Misha said, only just managing to stifle a yawn.

 

"We will," Samantha promised, looking back down at the man on the gurney. She squinted at him. He looked familiar. Maybe he lived somewhere on the island and she'd seen him before.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Misha gave another nod and started to trudge back to his car. The drive back to the house seemed to take forever and by the time he parked the car, he was ready to crash. He made it as far as the couch, setting his alarm to pick the kids up before he passed the hell out.

 

He woke up before his alarm, thankfully, and felt decidedly more rested than he had before. He stretched and headed for the bathroom. Might as well clean up the mess that he trekked in with Mr. Handsome last night. Getting the sand out of the carpet was a pain, but after a good hour's worth of work, the house and his bed looked completely normal again.

 

Misha showered and put on clothes so he could feel human and relaxed for a few minutes before his alarm went off. He picked up both of his kids and fielded their many questions about their "guest" while he had them do their homework, and watch some TV for the afternoon.

 

He was curious as to how Mr. Handsome was doing, but Samantha was probably still on shift and would only yell at him if he called the hospital to ask. Misha yawned and went about the rest of his afternoon, even managing to sneak in a few hours worth of work after the kids went to bed before he crashed for the night.

 

~!~

 

When the rest of the morning went by, with no call from the hospital, Misha got curious and went visiting after he dropped the kids off. Samantha was walking in at the same time he was and he gave her his winningest smile and promised coffee if she could get him an update on their drifter.

 

He definitely preferred "Mr. Handsome" better than 'drifter'. Misha sipped his coffee and offered Samantha her caramel macchiato and raised his eyebrows. "So has he been awake yet?"

 

"Yes," Samantha said, taking a sip of the coffee happily. "Twice. But you were right about the concussion."

 

Misha winced. Concussions were pretty much the worst injury you could get in terms of non-lethal ones, because they could fuck you up for months, especially when you least expected it. "Well, do you at least have a name to go with the face?"

 

"No, and that's the other part of the problem," she said. "He's got memory loss."

 

Misha huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "Wasn't this a movie?"

 

Samantha rolled her eyes. "No one here has recognized him, which means he probably isn't an Islander, especially if he washed up on your beach."

 

Misha took another sip of coffee and nodded. That was true. Most Islanders knew to avoid his side of the island in a storm. Too many cliffs and rocks to crash a boat on during good weather, let alone bad. "Does he remember anything?"

 

Samantha smiled. "He said 'Jen' was probably his name. Or a part of it. He's not sure, so I'm guessing it's probably a nickname."

 

Misha raised an eyebrow. "Wonder what 'Jen' is short for."

 

"I don't know, _Misha_ ," Sam countered, raising an eyebrow.

 

Misha raised a finger at her. "I am an exception to that rule, because you get tired of children faking a horrible Russian accent when they say Dmitri by the time you are eight or so."  

 

Samantha snorted. "Anyway. Did you want to see him? He does owe you a thank you after all."

 

Misha grinned at Samantha and nodded. "Yeah. I'm guessing that you haven't had any family come by looking for the guy?"

 

Samantha shook her head and led him into the hospital. "Nope. If he washed up on the beach, you can bet that he wasn't a local. All of us were ready for that storm when it showed up the other night."

 

"True," Misha agreed, following behind her. She stopped beside a doorway and held it open for him. He grinned and stepped inside, looking at the single occupant of the room.

 

He headed over to the bed and saw that Mr. Handsome was definitely awake. Awake and scowling by the looks of things. Misha couldn't help grinning. He was adorable when he scowled like that.

 

"Come to run more tests on me?"

 

"Nope!" Misha said, shaking his head. "While I'm trained as an EMT, I am definitely not one of your doctors or nurses."

 

Mr. Handsome narrowed his eyes at him and Misha couldn't help smiling a little bit more, because his eyes were even brighter than they had looked yesterday. Mr. Handsome definitely fit.

 

"So, what the hell are you doing here? Do you know who I am?"

 

Misha shook his head and settled into the seat beside Mr. Handsome. "I don't have any idea who the hell you are. I just know that you washed up on my beach, and I dragged you inside, got you warm and brought you here."

 

Mr. Handsome sat up a little straighter as he explained and Misha grinned at him. "Figured I'd check on you and see how you are doing. You were pretty rough when I brought you in."

 

"Yeah," Mr. Handsome agreed. "Thanks."

 

Misha reached out and gave him a pat on the arm. "You are very welcome and I was happy to help! Though I hear that you don't remember who you are or anything remotely useful?"

 

He shook his head. "I've got the basics down, reading, writing, brushing my teeth, things like that, so they know it isn't permanent. Concussion is likely fucking with my memory."

 

"Yeah, they do that," Misha agreed, giving him a sunny smile. "I'm sure you'll figure out exactly who you are and be on your way soon enough! Speaking of your head, you had one hell of a bump yesterday when you were brought in. How's your head feel?"

 

"Like someone took a baseball bat to it and enjoyed it far too much," he grumbled.

 

Misha laughed and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sorry, that sounds miserable."

 

"It is."

 

"Well, I think I'll leave you to recover, I know that you need your beauty sleep," Misha said, standing up and brushing off his jeans. If he stayed for too long, Samantha would start harassing him. And or tell him to flirt in earnest.

 

"Hey, uh. What's your name, man?"

 

Misha looked over his shoulder and grinned. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours?"

 

Mr. Handsome scowled again and Misha was pretty sure that he wasn't supposed to find that as attractive as he did.

 

"Jen. I think. With a J. It's short for, for whatever my name is," he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Misha turned back around and rubbed his hand through his hair. "It could be worse."

 

Jen turned that scowl on him, but Misha cut it off at the pass by holding out his hand. Jen took it and Misha smiled at him again. "My name is Misha. Misha collins. Well. That's not my _legal_ name, but that's a whole 'nother story we can save for beers."

 

Jen opened his mouth to argue and scowled when a yawn came out instead. "Dammit, I hate being this tired."

 

Misha smiled at him and shook his head. "Don't worry. I'll be back sooner than you think, and hell, if you're lucky, I might even visit you while I'm at it."

 

Jen snorted and gave him a quick smile and Misha decided that that was definitely a win. He gave Jen another wave and headed for the door, closing it behind him.

 

"How's he doing?" Samantha asked, raising an eyebrow at Misha when he picked up the man's chart from the small bin next to the door.

 

"He's good. Pissed off at his memory loss, but coherent, no issues with words or speech, was able to focus on me easily. Just one case of someone hitting their head too hard and futzing with brain chemistry," Misha rattled off, smiling at her. She gave him a proud grin and he couldn't help how proud that made him feel. Samantha had been one of the people who had demanded years ago that he go and get his EMT certification and he had been so glad that he had.

 

"You should come back and visit him again. I don't know that he'll have many visitors, not knowing who he is and all," Samantha said, giving him an elbow. "I also didn't see a wedding ring, and he's handsome, isn't he?"

 

Misha grinned a little bit and looked at the room over his shoulder. "I was calling him Mr. Handsome in my head before you told me what he remembered of his name," he admitted, winking at her when Samantha burst out laughing.

 

"Well, it's fitting," Samantha agreed, looking towards the room. "But you should visit him, Misha. If nothing else, you can provide far livelier conversation than I can."

 

Misha chuckled and gave her another wink and headed out to the door, tapping on his jaw. Maybe he should bring the kids by if Jen was lacking stimulating conversation. He winced. On the other hand, maybe that would just make him want to jump back into the ocean. No kids for now would probably be better.

 

~!~

 

The next few days were endlessly hectic, between Maison deciding to get sick and Misha had to try to keep West far enough away from her so he didn't get sick, while also trying not to get sick himself. It was a recipe for disaster and no sleep, which was seeming to be the pattern of this week. Little to no sleep.

 

He wasn't expecting his phone to ring after three days of almost non-stop taking care of sick kids. Misha groaned and was tempted to ignore the call, but whoever was calling in the middle of the afternoon probably needed something.

 

Misha swiped the phone open and held it up to his ear. He prayed that it wasn't the daycare telling him that Maison had relapsed. "'lo?" he muttered.

 

"Well, well, about time that you picked up. I was starting to think that our patient had done something to piss you off," Samantha teased.

 

Misha sat up in a rush, his head swimming a little as he cursed. Of course, he'd completely forgotten about Jen and coming to visit him in the hospital. "Shit, Sam, I'm so sorry, the kids have been sick-"

 

"I know, Charlie told me, so I figured that's why you forgot. How are you doing, did you avoid getting sick?"

 

"Yes, thank god," Misha said, sinking back down on the couch, blowing out a long breath. "Maison was sick for days though, and West caught a smaller version of it, but they're both on the mend."

 

"Well, speaking of days, I've got a bit of a problem and I'm wondering if you might be interested in helping me with it," Samantha said.

 

Misha opened one eye and looked out at his porch. He could already tell what was coming, and Sam must have been out of options if she was reaching out to him. "And what exactly is this problem?"

 

"He's six feet, gorgeous green eyes, smile of a model and the grumpiest patient I've ever met?" Sam said, smiling into the phone.

 

Misha groaned and covered his face with his hands. "I was afraid that you were going to say that. Is something going on with him?"

 

"Well," Samantha said. "Here's the thing, Mish. He doesn't have any idea who he is, no ID, no information about who he is, where he lives, no money, no nothing. If we turn him out..."

 

"He's going to end up homeless," Misha finished for her.

 

"Right," Samantha said. "And since we can't keep him here any longer after discharging him, I'm not entirely sure what to do."

 

Misha huffed. "Can you discharge a person who doesn't know their own identity?"

 

"Misha," Samantha snapped. "Focus a little bit for me. I'm wondering if you know anyone who might be willing to put him up for a few days while he tries to work on his memory."

 

A quick survey of the people on the island didn't leave him confident he could give her the answer that she wanted. Because most of those people, while they would be able to take in Jen, they didn't have the room or the financial ability to do so. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "You're fucking with me, I know it," he whispered.

 

"What was that, Misha?" Samantha asked.

 

Misha brought the phone back up to his ear. "I'll take him in. For at least a couple of weeks. He can help me with the kids and we can work on getting his memory back. Do you have any concerns with him around kids?"

 

Samantha hummed. "No, I'm reasonably sure that he'll be fine, if a little grumpy. And that's more due to the concussion, pain and lack of memory than it is anything else. The kids he's interacted with here have been totally fine."

 

Misha nodded and relaxed back into the couch. "Okay, then the only thing that I need to do is make sure the kids are okay with it. Do you mind if I pick him up around four thirty?"

 

"That's fine," Samantha agreed. "Thank you so much Misha, I know he'll be excited-"

 

"Not when he hears I have two kids!" Misha said, laughing a little. Samantha echoed his laugh, promised to call him later and disconnected the call.

 

Misha dropped the phone onto his chest and closed his eyes again. He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned. He was a glutton for punishment and hell he could never resist Samantha's puppy eyes, either real or over the phone. Apparently they were going to have a houseguest for a little while.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Misha got the kids settled in the kitchen and promised that he had important news for them before he settled down at the kitchen table as well. "All right guys, I have an announcement."

 

"Baby?" Maison said, her eyes lighting up.

 

Misha smiled at her but shook his head. "No, no baby this time around."

 

He ignored Maison's pouted and turned his attention to West. "What about you, West?"

 

"Well, what's the announcement?" West asked.

 

Misha wanted to drop his head into a bowl of cereal. Of course, that would have helped a great deal. "We're going to have a guest for a little while. Someone's going to come stay with us."

 

West lit up and sat up straight. "Who? Who is gonna come stay?"

 

Misha smiled at his son and looked over at Maison and say her staring at him intently. "His name is Jen. He's the person that we rescued off the beach. He lost his memory, so he's going to come stay with us while he tries to remember things."

 

West's eyes went wide and he gasped. "He lost his memory? He doesn't remember anything?"

 

Misha shook his head. "He doesn't remember a single thing, so he needs some help and we're going to be the people to help him. How does that sound?"

 

West nodded eagerly. "Sounds good, Dad."

 

"Okay," Misha said, smiling at both of them. "This means that you need to try to be nice to him. At least for a couple of days, all right?"

 

West only pouted and Misha grinned at him a little bit more. "Come on, let him get used to all of you and then you can torment him, all right?"

 

" _Fiiiiine_ ," West said, flopping back and into his chair. "Can we pick him up tonight, or do we need wait?"

 

"We're going to get him right now and then we are going to go to dinner so he has a chance to decide if he wants to stay with us," Misha said, standing up from the table before picking Maison up.

 

"Okay!" West said, bouncing a little as he got up from the table. "I bet I can get him to play with me!"

 

"I'm sure you can," Misha agreed, smiling at West as they headed for his car. He got them situated and Maison buckled in before heading over to the hospital. He sent Samantha a quick text to let her know that they were there and got the kids bundled out and headed inside. "Now, what are hospital rules?"

 

"Inside voices," West said, looking around wide-eyed.

 

"Gah!" Maison agreed.

 

Misha smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Yes, that's right. All right, let's go see if we can find Jen, because we have to sign him out and say that we're going to take care of him for a couple of days."

 

He knocked on the door to Jen's room and smiled when he heard a gruff 'Come in!' a moment later. Misha opened the door, careful to make sure that he didn't end up hitting either of the kids with the heavy door. "Hello there, how are you doing?"

 

Misha smiled when he saw that Jen recognized him and couldn't help winking. "So, I'm sorry for not visiting, but Maison here," he gestured to his daughter. "Decided to get sick and then of course, West had to catch a little bit of what she had, and sick kids are about as demanding and needy as they get so I wasn't able to come visit."

 

Jen nodded and glanced over to the door. "Uh, no problem. What brings you to visit now?"

 

Misha walked a little further into the room and put Maison down on the floor to toddle around the room. There wasn't anything immediately breakable that he could see within her reach. "Well I heard that you had a problem and Samantha called me to see if could help."

 

Jen winced and rubbed at his arm. "You don't have to worry about that, I'll figure-"

 

"You'll figure out what, exactly?" Misha countered, walking over to the edge of the bed. "You'll end up on the streets, and while we have a handful of homeless shelters on the island, I don't think they are where you want to spend the night if you have another option."

 

Jen glared at the other man. "I don't want to inconvenience you and your wife. Or the kids," he added, glancing down at the kids playing.

 

Misha chuckled. "Well, no wife to worry about, so feel free to come and crash at my place. I can't promise the kids won't be holy terrors, but I'm more than willing to put you up for a few weeks while you recover if you help me with them."

 

Jen stared at him. "You're...you'd let me into your home like that?"

 

Misha shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, since there isn't really anyone else in a position to take you in that is close by. I've got the money, means and room to be able to. As long as you tell me you're fine with kids, I'll drive you back to my place now."

 

"I don't...why are you helping me?"

 

"Because you seem like a nice guy who got hurt and doesn't have any control over anything going on and I want to help, Jen?" Misha offered.

 

"Jensen," Jensen corrected, then blinked in surprise. He stared at Misha and cleared his throat. "My name. I just...it's Jensen. Not Jen."

 

Misha gave Jensen a sunny grin. "Jensen. Got it. Okay, Jensen, well, I'm glad to see that my presence clearly has magical memory abilities and you've remembered something already."

 

Jensen gave a hesitant smile and nodded, looking down at the sweatpants and t-shirt he was wearing. He picked at them. "Are these, uh, yours?"

 

"Yes!" Misha laughed. "You were dead weight, so getting you dressed in anything was a challenge, so I just grabbed what was easiest. I think you'll fit into my jeans easy enough, but we might need to pick up a few other things for you."

 

Jensen nodded again. "Are you sure you're all right putting me up for a little while? I'll, I'll pay you back as soon as I know, and I figure out who I am."

 

"Jensen," Misha said, walking over to the edge of the bed. "It'll be alright. I promise. Let's get you back to my place and you can focus on healing and worry about the rest of that after you get a good night's sleep in a normal bed."

 

"Dad!!" West shouted, just as a crash sounded from the other side of the bed.

 

Misha winked at Jensen and rolled his eyes to see what the commotion was. Maison had knocked the bedpan out of one of the other beds and he chuckled, putting it back into place. "It's all right, no harm done. See? Everything is all good to go," he said, picking Maison up again.

 

She squirmed against him for a few minutes before relaxing and settling into the crook of his shoulder. "All right, since it seems like someone needs the nap they never want to admit to, I think we need to be heading home. Jensen, are you good to leave?"

 

Jensen nodded and stood up from the bed slowly, testing his balance. He slipped his feet into the flip flops he had been given and frowned at them. He hated flip flops.

 

Misha smiled at the disgusted face Jensen gave the shoes he was wearing and made a mental note that they would need to visit Payless sometime tomorrow if Jensen didn't fit in his shoes. He led the way back to the front desk and co-signed the paperwork with Jensen, glad that they didn't need to sort the bill out this second. "Come on, I'm not parked far away."

 

He led the way to the car and unlocked it, and worked on getting Maison tucked into her carseat. "All right Jensen, you're in the front seat with me, West, no complaining, your legs are shorter, this is just logic, now climb into the back."

 

Misha blew out a breath and relaxed into the car and got them started on the drive home. It didn't take him long to wonder at the silence, but when he looked around, he realized that Jensen was twisted around smiling at the kids. Apparently Samantha had been right about him being good with kids.

 

He got the car parked and slowly unpacked everyone and got them into the house and leaned back against the door. It had been an exhausting couple of days. He would sleep so well tonight, without a doubt.

 

"You look dead on your feet."

 

Misha opened an eye and stared at Jensen, giving him a scowl. "Thank you for the observation."

 

Jensen only grinned at him and Misha relaxed, pushing himself upright. "I'm tired. Two sick kids when you're a single parent is exhausting in a way that almost nothing else in the world is."

 

Jensen nodded and looked around the house. "Do you want me to start dinner?"

 

Misha chuckled and headed towards the kitchen. "I am not going to make you cook your first night here. No, we're going to have pizza tonight, and then I am going to take a nap. And then I need to get some work done, so you can chill on the couch and make sure if the kids scream, you come get me."

 

"Work?" Jensen asked, perking up a little bit. "Is there something I can help with?"

 

Misha shook his head. "Nah, I'll show you another time, preferably after you have gotten a good night's sleep. I won't be gone long, just a couple of hours after the kids go to bed. That's usually the easiest time for me to work."

 

Jensen nodded and took the pizza menu from Misha when it was offered.

 

"Do you remember what kind of pizza you like? Cheese? Pepperoni? Pineapple?"

 

"Who puts fruit on a pizza?" Jensen asked with a scowl, staring at the pineapple pizza. "Pepperoni would be fine."

 

Misha nodded happily and got their pizza's ordered, his stomach grumbling. He glanced at the clock. Television time was almost over for West and naptime was almost finished for Maison. "West, time for homework!"

 

"But Daaaaaaad!" West protested, gesturing to the TV. "Ten more minutes!"

 

Misha smiled, setting the timer on the stove. "Ten more minutes and then homework, deal?"

 

"Yes!" West said, immediately turning back to the screen, smiling at the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

 

"Digital baby sitter. Best thing ever," Misha said, grinning at Jensen. He yawned. "Okay, I'm going to go set up the guest room and then I'm going to crash for a cat nap until the pizza shows up. Mind the kids, Maison will start to wake up, and I'll wake up if she screams, so don't worry about it."

 

Jensen nodded, looking around the house. Misha had everything under control to an almost scary level. The efficiency was intimidating. And maybe also a little attractive, since the other man made himself sound as lazy as possible. "Yeah, go lay down."

 

Misha nodded and headed for the guest bedroom across from his and got a new set of sheets put on the bed, as well as pillow cases for the pillows and one of the comforters. It could get cold at night. He grinned at the view of the bay. Well, at least Jensen would have the same view West would. Hopefully no more strangers would wash up tonight.

 

Once he had everything organized, he left the door to his room open and flopped down onto the bed, face first and groaned happily into the pillow. Yes, this was exactly what he had needed. Misha took a deep breath and let himself relax properly, sagging into the blanket. He was asleep, breathing deeply in a matter of minutes.

 

~!~

 

Misha didn't wake up until he heard the doorbell and he sat up, looking around in surprise. A quick glance at the clock told him he had been asleep for almost forty minutes. "Shit," he swore, walking back out into the living room, rubbing at his hair. He grabbed his wallet off the counter and walked over to Osric, who raised an eyebrow at him and then looked over at Jensen.

 

"I'll fill you in later," he muttered, taking forty bucks out to shove at the kid while he grabbed their pizzas. He gave a slow inhale and smiled. Oh that was heaven and exactly what he'd wanted.

 

"You'd better," Osric said, glancing over at the other man that was holding Maison. "Because he's got your daughter eating out of the palm of his hand."

 

Misha shut the door behind Osric and turned around and froze at the sight of Jensen walking in slow circles around the kitchen, rocking Maison in his arms, West at the table with a few papers scattered around him. "Everything okay?" he asked, walking towards the stove, where he put the pizza down.

 

"Yeah," Jensen said, giving Misha's daughter a little bounce. "She just woke up a little bit ago and was fussing. West told me that she liked singing, and she's been waking up slowly."

 

"Jensen can sing really well," West said, frowning as he erased one of his answers. "But he's not good at math. Dad, can you help?"

 

Misha looked over West’s shoulder and at the math. “Yeah, I can, after dinner though. Clean your stuff up and we’ll work on it after we’ve eaten.” He smiled when West immediately started stuffing his homework into his backpack.

 

Misha found himself getting distracted by Jensen regularly during dinner. Especially that now he knew he had to be aware of the man and watch for any warning signs - impatience with the kids, frustration, raising his voice. Apart from a truly epic 'I am done with this shit' face that Jensen had only used on him, he had been damn near perfect.

 

After dinner was over, Jensen helped get Maison cleaned up and then took care of the rest of the dishes before he carried her into the bathroom. He blinked himself out of his astonishment before he managed to say anything. "Are you giving her a bath?"

 

"Well, yeah, unless you want her sleeping in pizza grease!" Jensen called back, sticking his head out of the bathroom. "Should I not?"

 

"No, no, it's fine," Misha sputtered and told himself that he would peek in on them in a second. "Leave the door open and I'll join you in a sec, she tends to get a little unruly when it comes to baths."

 

Misha stared at the empty doorway when Jensen disappeared again and he didn't realize he was staring until West called him for help with his homework again. He shook his head and refocused on his son, giving him a big smile. "Sorry, what can I help you with?"

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Sorting out West and his homework didn't take long, and Misha reviewed it to make sure it looked mostly accurate before he let West pack it away and head to his bedroom to change into PJs and brush his teeth. He'd earned an hour of video gaming time and Misha was pretty damn positive he'd never seen West get ready for bed so quickly.

 

He set the timer for an hour (because West was getting _only_ an hour) and headed to the bathroom where the sounds of splashing were. Misha toe'd open the door and took in the sight in front of him, his heart doing several uncomfortable flip flops.

 

Jensen had Maison in the bath, surrounded by some of her favorite toys, singing to her quietly as she helped to scrub herself with the loofah. His mouth went dry and he had to turn away for a second, clenching his eyes shut. How many times had he imagined a scene like this when they'd decided to have kids, before...

 

Misha shook his head and took a deep breath. One thing at a time. He could think about that while he worked later. He turned back to Jensen and smiled, bright and wide. "Looks like you two are making a serious mess! What have you been up to without me?"

 

Jensen raised an eyebrow at Misha. "Well she decided that I needed to be as wet as she was, and I wasn't particularly in the mood to argue with her, as long as she got clean."

 

"Hopeless," Misha said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed a spare towel from the linen cupboard and brought it over to Jensen, helping to dry some of the water droplets on him. "Always have a spare towel for when it's bath time," he advised, turning to Maison with a grin. "Isn't that right, my little tyrant?"

 

Maison just gave him a bigger, toothier grin and Misha leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "That's right, my future world ruler. Now, we are your loyal subjects, but we do need to finish your bath. Sound good?"

 

"Yes, Daddy!" Maison cooed, sitting back down into the water with a splash.

 

Misha tried to ignore the 'seriously, dude' look from Jensen when another small wave of water crashed over them both. Yeah, he might have done that on purpose, just to see if he could get Jensen to make that face again. "If you're really good, maybe Jensen will be the one to read you a story tonight. How about that?"

 

Maison gave a squeal of delight along with a litany of yes's and what her favorite books were that she wanted Jensen to read. Jensen's eyes went a little wide, but he promised at least one book, and maybe a second if she was good. That at least put the splashing to a halt.

 

"All right, Princess," Misha said, holding out a towel. "Time for you to get all dry and ready for bed, okay?"

 

Maison pouted at him, but held up her arms willingly enough.

 

Misha wrapped her up close in the towel and dried off her hair and her face, making her giggle as he kissed her nose. "Come on, let's go get you dressed for bed, then you can pick out a story for Jensen."

 

Getting Maison dressed for bed was easier than it had been in weeks, with the promise of someone new getting to read the stories. Misha got her settled and turned around to spy Jensen lingering in the doorway. He smiled a little bit. "Ready for story time?"

 

"Daddy stay?" Maison asked, looking between them hesitantly.

 

"Of course," Misha said, glancing at the timer in the kitchen. West still had another twenty minutes, which was more than enough to get Maison settled and into bed, thank goodness. He took a deep breath and offered the storybook to Jensen and gestured to the chair that was near her bed.

 

Jensen settled into it, and Misha went to sit on the other side of Maison, combing his fingers through her hair. "I'll make sure he does everything right," Misha promised, smiling down at her as he rubbed her back gently. That would help her fall asleep quickly.

 

Jensen opened the book and began to read, and Misha was absolutely certain that he didn't hear a single word. He was so lost in the rhythm and cadence of Jensen's voice, the way the words ebbed and flowed, and he even gave the different characters funny voices. Maison giggled through the first half of the story, but by the second half, her eyes started to droop.

 

When Jensen finished the rest of the story, Maison was breathing slow and deep. Misha smiled and kept rubbing her back slowly for another few minutes before he pulled his hand away and waited. She didn't stir, so he stood up and crept out of the room slowly. Once he had shut the door behind them, he smiled at Jensen. "I wonder if you have any kids. You're a natural."

 

Jensen frowned at him and Misha had to wonder if that was a touchy subject that came with some of the memories. "Sorry, uh,-"

 

"No," Jensen said, looking down at the book he still held in his hands. "I don't think I do have any kids. Might have wanted them, but..." he shook his head and smiled. "Well, we got Maison to bed. Does West get to stay up for a little longer?"

 

Misha glanced over at the clock. "West, ten minute warning!"

 

"Aw, Dad!" West called, yanking on the controller as he turned a corner on the race course.

 

"No 'aw Dad'-ing me, you got extra time earlier, now you'll get your butt into bed in ten minutes!" Misha called and was glad that West didn't push the issue any further. He did like it when he could win arguments with cold hard facts like that.

 

He turned over to Jensen and looked at the still-damp sweatpants and t-shirt. "You need some more clothes, huh? Let's go dig through my closet," Misha said, heading towards his bedroom. He opened the armoire and pulled out a few more t-shirts, throwing them at Jensen. "Here, these should fit you, just good to wear around the house, you can keep that pair of sweats since it fits you, we'll buy underwear and shit for you tomorrow-"

 

"This is beautiful," Jensen interrupted, reaching out to touch the intricate, carved leaves on the edge of the armoire. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like this before."

 

Misha coughed when he caught himself staring at the way Jensen's fingers trailed over each of the raised leaves. "Well, it's hand-made, so I'm not surprised. But there are plenty of these with designs on them like this."

 

"Hand made?" Jensen asked, his eyes going wide as he took in how big the armoire was. He gave a low whistle and smiled at the sight of it. "This must have taken hours, god, that kind of dedication..."

 

"For something like this? I want to say it was about twenty five hours, give or take a few. I'm not actually counting when I make a piece for myself. And this wood fought me like you wouldn't believe," Misha said, reaching out to trail his fingers along another edge.

 

Jensen blinked and turned to look at Misha in surprise. "You, you built this?"

 

Misha laughed and looked up at the armoire. "Yeah. It was originally a..." He stopped and swallowed, shaking his head. "It was a house-warming gift that I ended up keeping and using for myself."

 

Even with his memory of the past gone, he knew when not to ask questions and Jensen nodded. "It's an incredible piece. Where did you learn to do this?"

 

Misha shrugged and winked at Jensen. "Around. I have to maintain some of my mystery or you'll end up realizing how boring I am!"

 

Jensen chuckled and shook his head. "Misha, if there is one thing that I am certain of, it is that you are not, under any circumstances, boring," he reassured.

 

Misha laughed and rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm glad to know you've at least figured that out!"

 

Jensen smiled when Misha added another pair of sweatpants to the growing pile in his arms. "I think I'll be good with this."

 

"Yeah," Misha agreed, eyeing the pile. "I think we still need to get you a few more things, but you can make a decent start with this."

 

Jensen looked down at the pile and frowned a little bit. "You don't need to buy me things. I mean, it's not like I can pay you back until I remember who the hell I am."

 

Misha shrugged. "That's not your fault. I'm not going to let you wander around in flip flops until you remember and can go to a bank."

 

"Okay," Jensen agreed, looking down at his feet. "Shoes and a few essentials like a toothbrush would be great."

 

Misha gave a pleased grin and clapped his hand together. "Excellent, glad to hear that you agree. Not that I would have let you disagree, but it's always good when someone sees things along the same lines that you do."

 

Jensen snorted and rolled his eyes. "I'm going to go put these into the guest room. Since they're both going to bed, are you going to work?"

 

"Yeah," Misha said, turning back to the wardrobe, closing it easily. He trailed his fingers over the dark cherry and then shook himself out of the nostalgia. "I won't be gone too long, but feel free to help yourself to the television. Just let me know if one of them has nightmares or something."

 

"Does that happen often?" Jensen asked.

 

Misha shook his head. "No, not often, but it does from time to time, especially for Maison. West has a sword that he uses to fight off monsters now."

 

Jensen raised both of his eyebrows.

 

Misha grinned. "It's a Nerf sword, but apparently it's excellent against the monsters in the closet. He curls up with it most nights."

 

Jensen laughed, heading for the guest room to put the clothes down and folded some of them quickly. He looked out at the beach through the window and couldn't help shivering at the sight of the water. He wasn't going to go swimming any time soon. But a run sounded great.

 

He went back to the living room and it was quiet, except for the noise of someone moving downstairs. Jensen saw that the door to the basement was open and then he could hear noises, what had to be a saw, as well as a few others. He sat down on the sofa and debated turning the television on.

 

Instead of doing that, he grabbed one of the books off the coffee table in front of him. Jensen looked at the title and smiled, opening it and settling into the corner of the couch as he started to read.

 

~!~

 

Misha lost himself in the steady rhythm of working his way through the commissioned piece and stared down at it. His mind was filled with too much and he couldn't focus. He was going to end up cutting off another finger at this rate.

 

He put his tools down and sank onto the stool, taking a few deep breaths. Misha focused on his breathing and let his mind drift, clearing it out. Jensen had certainly thrown a wrench in his routine and he still wasn't sure that it was an entirely good thing. At least buying some stuff for Jensen would be easy enough.

 

Misha wasn't sure how long he focused on his breathing and let his thoughts settle, but by the time he was done, he thought that he had heard the sound of Maison fussing. He listened for a few seconds longer, but no other sounds came, so he went back to work.

 

This time his mind was clear and the wood shaped quickly and easily under his fingertips. He smiled as he worked, losing himself to the easy rhythm of it all. His kids were safe, and he could work in piece with Jensen watching them.

 

Misha had to focus on the clock when he surfaced from finishing the drawer that he was working on. There was sweat falling into his eyes and that was making it a little bit harder to focus. He pushed his fingers through his hair and glanced over at the clock. Already past eleven. Hell, Jensen had probably climbed into bed at this point.

 

Misha chuckled and climbed the stairs, wiping at his face. He froze at the top of the stairs when he heard a low voice crooning.

 

"Smooooke on the water~"

 

He fought down a grin at the choice of song, but Jensen made another lap around the living room, slowly rubbing Maison's back as he walked around. A quick glance to the television showed that it wasn't on, but one of his favorite books was laying face down with a piece of paper sticking out of it.

 

"Is she fussing?" Misha asked, keeping his voice quiet.

 

Jensen froze and looked up at Misha and then down at Maison. "She's okay now. She woke up and was whining a little bit, so I wanted to settle her down. I could hear you working and didn't want to interrupt."

 

Misha walked over and leaned down, giving her cheek a gentle kiss where she was cradled in Jensen's arms. "All right. Well thank you for getting her relaxed and back to sleep," he whispered. "I think you can put her down now Deep Purple."

 

Misha couldn't help grinning when Jensen flushed, his cheeks darkening in the dim light of the living room. It made his freckles stick out and Misha wanted to tease him about it, but he also didn't want to wake his daughter up.

 

"I'll be right back," Jensen whispered and walked over to Maison's room, putting her down and carefully tucking her back into the blankets.

 

Misha stared as Jensen carefully made sure his daughter was comfortable before making his way back into the living room. He swallowed hard. If Jensen didn't have kids, he would be incredibly surprised. Which meant that he was more than a little off the market and he needed to behave. No sense in hitting on a guy who wasn't going to be interested in the slightest.

 

"How was work?" Jensen asked, eyeing Misha a little. He tugged his eyes back up to the man's face when he realized it wasn't appropriate to be ogling his host.

 

Misha shrugged. "The same it always is, but I need a shower. That tired me out, I'll sleep well tonight."

 

Jensen nodded. "All right, I'll leave you to your bed and shower. Did you want me to cook breakfast in the morning?"

 

Misha snickered and raised an eyebrow. "No offense Jen, but you don't strike me as a morning person."

 

"I have no idea," Jensen said with a shrug. "But hey, I'll get up and make it if it would make your life easier in the morning."

 

"I'm not going to say no to free breakfast," Misha said. "Just make sure it's not pancakes. That's normally our Saturday morning treat. Eggs and bacon, that sort of thing will be fine."

 

Jensen nodded. "All right, eggs I can do without much issue, I think."

 

Misha smiled and yawned. "All right, then I'm heading to bed," he said, stretching his arms over his head before he headed for the bedroom.

 

Jensen swallowed hard and reminded himself that Misha had two children and absolutely would not be interested in his...well. Whatever the hell he was. Guest? His guest hitting on him. He needed to keep his eyes and his hands to himself.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

The next morning when the alarm clock next to the bed went off, Jensen agreed completely with Misha's assessment. He was not a morning person, not in the slightest. He yawned and rolled out of bed, rubbing at his hair before he padded to the kitchen. It was still dark outside, the sun just starting to rise.

 

Jensen turned off the coffee machine and got it percolating before he went to the bay window with the view of the ocean and the beach that Misha had found him on. He looked back out at the water. What the hell had he been doing? Where had he come from? Why had he been out in that storm?

 

A flash of something, a memory maybe, holding onto a wheel, a large wave hitting the side of the boat, then cold. So much cold.

 

Jensen shook his head when he heard West's bedroom door open and small feet hurry down the hall. He smiled and turned back to the kitchen. Might as well keep his promise about getting breakfast made.

 

He dug through the fridge and pulled out the eggs, bacon and orange juice. It didn't take him long to get acquainted with the stove, and a little bit more poking around produced two pans so he could make the eggs in, easily enough.

 

By the time West came back out to the kitchen, still rubbing his eyes, Jensen was ready for him with bacon. "How do you want your eggs, West?"

 

West made a grumpy noise. "Over easy?"

 

"Coming right up," Jensen agreed, cracking a couple of eggs into the pan, getting his started. "How'd you sleep?"

 

"I don't wanna go to school," West grumbled. "I don't feel good."

 

Jensen chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him. "I think you don't feel like going to school. What's going on? Test today?"

 

West shook his head. "I don't like going to school."

 

"And you know I'm going to make you, no matter what," Misha said, coming into the kitchen with a yawn. His eyes caught on his sweatpants on Jensen and just how low they were riding, exposing small lines of hip bone. "Has Maison woken up yet?"

 

"Nope," Jensen and West said together.

 

Jensen chuckled and carefully flipped West's egg. "I think she's all yours, Mish."

 

Misha blinked at the nickname and only managed to stir himself into motion a minute later. He wasn't going to think how good Jensen looked in his kitchen, wearing his clothing. He definitely wasn't going to think about how much those sweatpants hugged him and how he was reminded about the fact that Jensen definitely didn't own any underwear yet.

 

He swallowed and went into Maison's room. "Time to get up princess," he called.

 

Jensen finished off West's egg and slid it onto his plate, settling into the chair across from him. "Why don't you like going to school?"

 

"It's boring," West said with a huff, rolling his eyes. "We learn stuff so slow, and we talk about it forever and never move on to more things and-"

 

"Woah, woah, slow down," Jensen said, smiling at him. "So you are ahead of some of your classes and you get bored?"

 

"Yeah," West said with a huff. "And then when I get bored, I do stuff I'm not supposed to, and Dad says I should ask for more work from the teachers, but I don't want to do that _either_..."

 

Jensen hummed and watched West start to dig into his eggs. "What about helping some of your other classmates?"

 

West looked up at him curiously.

 

Jensen smiled. "Well, if you finish first, and you know the stuff the rest of the class is still learning, why not help some of them catch up with you? Then you won't be bored."

 

"The teachers won't let me," West said with a pout, looking down at his bacon before he stuffed more eggs into his mouth.

 

"Have you tried asking them?" Jensen asked. "Or are you just saying that?"

 

West gave him a grumpy look and Jensen laughed. "I thought so. Why don't you try that?"

 

West pushed around his eggs and frowned. "What if they tell me no?"

 

"Then we figure something else out," Jensen said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Now, finish up your orange juice and go brush your teeth and finish getting ready," he ordered.

 

Misha came out of Maison's room a moment later and Jensen offered him a plate with some bacon on it. "Here. How do you want your eggs?"

 

"However you're making them is fine," Misha said, yawning a little bit as he finished pulling Maison's jacked on.

 

"Well, lucky for you, I am making them to order, so how would you like yours?" Jensen asked.

 

Misha chuckled. "Sunny side up, then for me."

 

"Man after my own heart," Jensen said, grinning at him. "Give me a second."

 

Misha nodded and watched as Jensen immediately cracked a few eggs into a pan and got them started. He looked down at Maison where she was still cuddled against his chest, determined not to wake up just yet.

 

"How are you feeling?" Misha asked, watched as Jensen moved in his kitchen like he had been there for years. He didn't let his heart hope, because it was useless. As soon as Jensen knew who he really was, he would be gone, so there was no point in getting used to him in his kitchen like this.

 

Jensen smiled over his shoulder. "I'm still a little sore, which the doctor said would be normal, but for the most part, I'm about as good as I'm going to get."

 

"Good," Misha said, nodding his head as Maison finally started to wake up, blinking sleepily at him. "Do you feel up to shopping today? We can pick up a few things for you."

 

Jensen nodded and got the spatula half under Misha's eggs, making sure that they were cooking properly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Don't need much, but a toothbrush, pair of shoes and underwear are priority."

 

Misha laughed a little. "All right, we can do all of those things and pick up the other essentials too. I just got a big commission job, so spending a little isn't a problem."

 

Jensen perked up and smiled a little bit. "Yeah? What did they commission you to make?"

 

"A whole bedroom set. It's going to be my first, and let me tell you, the wood they have me working with? It's gorgeous. It's purple. I've heard of it, but never worked with it before," Misha said, some of his excitement bleeding into his voice. "Sorry, I'm probably one of the few people that gets excited about wood."

 

"Well, I think a lot of people get excited about wood, but not in the morning, unless they're teenagers," Jensen quipped, winking at Misha as he put an egg on his plate.

 

Misha gave a scandalized gasp. "Jen! There are young, impressionable ears here!" He looked down at Maison, who gave a snore. "Well. There were, anyways."

 

Jensen laughed and gave Misha the other egg. "Here, eat that, and I'll take Maison and get her woken up." He looked towards the kid's bedrooms. "West, you finished getting ready?"

 

"Maybe!" West shouted back.

 

Jensen picked up Maison easily and tucked her into his arms, heading for the porch. It would be a little chilly, but not cold, which would be more than enough to wake up the princess. He opened the door and shut it behind him. "Time to wake up properly, Maison."

 

She made a grumpy little noise and snuggled in tighter against him and Jensen laughed, heading for the balcony. "Come on now, you've got school. You can't sleep through school."

 

"Yes, can," she mumbled, blinking at him.

 

Jensen grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She was adorable, and, he had a feeling, took exactly after Misha. "Well, you aren't going to sleep through it today, so you might as well go ahead and wake up."

 

She stretched properly and wiggled in his arms, demanding to be put down.

 

Jensen set her down on the porch and watched her toddle around for a few minutes before she headed for the screen door again and tugged it open.

 

Misha smiled when Maison came back into the living room, looking grumpy as all hell, followed by Jensen, illuminated by the sun at his back. He sucked in a breath and choked on his bite of eggs. Fuck, he knew that Jensen was gorgeous, especially from an objective sense, but like that, it just wasn't fair, for any of them. He coughed, hard, but it was the hand slapping at his back that let him swallow easily.

 

"You okay there, Mish?" Jensen asked, bending in front of him worriedly. "Good thing I walked in when I did."

 

Misha nodded and fumbled for his orange juice, taking a sip of it and letting it burn all of the way down his throat. It felt good and he took another deep breath. "Yeah, definitely a good thing. I'll be good, just went down the wrong pipe."

 

Jensen nodded at him and Misha gave him a shooing motion. "You'd better hurry up and shower, since we need to leave soon with the kids. Use the shower in my room, we need to pick you up bathroom stuff."

 

Misha definitely didn't shamelessly ogle that back and ass as Jensen walked into his room. He gave himself a minute to fantasize about what could be waiting for him in that room if he didn't have two kids that he needed to make lunches for. Jensen, spread out on his bed, not wearing anything...

 

"Dad, can I have peanut butter and jelly for lunch?" West called.

 

"Me too!" Maison said.

 

Misha shook his head. "Not today, you'll get turkey and cheddar cheese, but I'll add in a peanut butter cup, how about that?"

 

"Okay!" West said, grinning.

 

Misha knew when he had been played, because that was probably what West had wanted all along. Oh well. He could put in celery as well, and then it would at least be a semi-healthy snack. He stood up and started getting their lunches packed. It didn't take long, and by the time he was done, Jensen was already coming out of his bedroom, a towel around his waist.

 

His mouth went dry as he watched Jensen creep back to his bedroom and he realized that of course Jensen hadn't brought clothes with him. He groaned a little and hid his face behind one of the cabinets and forced himself to make a grocery list that they could pick up after they were done shopping. Misha also counted to twenty and told himself that he shouldn't be ogling Jensen. Absolutely should not be.

 

It didn't take him long to get himself under control. He helped the kids get their backpacks packed up and he smiled when Jensen came back into the living room, wearing the sweatpants, flip flops and one of the t-shirts from yesterday. "First order of business after we drop the kids off is shoes, right?"

 

Jensen nodded and looked down at his feet. He frowned at them. "Yes, please. Flip flops are not something that I enjoy wearing."

 

Misha nodded and got both of the kids into the car and strapped in as Jensen climbed in with him. He started the engine and inhaled slowly and his eyes flew open when he realized that Jensen had used his body wash. He tightened his hands on the wheel and pulled them out of the driveway. Fuck. Everything about this was a no-win scenario. He needed to get Jensen his own shampoo, because if he kept using his, Jensen was going to end up molested.

 

He got the kids dropped off without any further issue and then turned to Jensen. "Shoes, right?"

 

Jensen smiled. "Yeah. Socks too, unless you want me stealing those."

 

Misha laughed. "Somehow I don't think that you would like my taste in socks, so we'll get you some of those too!"

 

"Do I want to know?" Jensen asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

Misha grinned at him and waggled his eyebrows. "I'll show you my sock drawer when we get back to the house."

 

Jensen snorted. "Yeah, I'm not sure that I want to know what the hell involves that much eyebrow waggling and socks."

 

Misha burst out laughing and shook his head as he headed for town. "Honestly, it's not that big of a deal. I promise. I just have some...unique tastes, as my ex would say."

 

Jensen hummed and debated asking about Misha's ex, and how Misha had been the one with the kids. "I like that. It's good to be unique." Misha gave him an odd look, but Jensen focused on observing the town they were driving through. Misha seemed to know where they were going, so he watched the shops as they drove by.

 

"Anything that you recognize?" Misha asked, steering the conversation back to safer topics. Should never have mentioned his ex. That was bad form, and on top of that, was inviting a conversation he wasn't sure that he wanted to have with a mostly-stranger, no matter how good he was with his kids.

 

Jensen shrugged a little bit and was glad when Misha pulled into a parking lot. "Familiar in the sense that I know the names of the stores, or recognize them, but I have no idea what the memories are that are attached to them."

 

"What does it feel like?" Misha asked, climbing out of the car. "Is it, weird and foggy, or?"

 

Jensen followed Misha into the store and thought about how to answer it. "It's a little foggy. But it's more like, nothing. I go to think about something that should be there, and it isn't, and I don't know what I was trying to remember in the first place."

 

"But some stuff is coming back, right?" Misha said, glancing at Jensen as he held the door open. "You remembered your full name instead of the nickname, right?"

 

"Yeah," Jensen agreed. "But I don't remember my last name to save my life. Thinking about that hurts my head after a little bit, so I stopped trying."

 

Misha hummed and followed Jensen back toward the men's shoes. He grabbed a couple of packs of socks along the way and let Jensen take a look at the shoes. "I'm sorry. It must be frustrating."

 

"What's more frustrating is that other stuff isn't missing," Jensen said, picking up one pair of sneakers. "I remember how to cook eggs, shower, work a television, sing a Deep Purple song...but anything substantial that relates to my life? It's gone."

 

Misha nodded and pointed out a pair of sneakers and Jensen looked at them for a moment before nodding and picking them off the shelf. "Here, this'll be good for everyday wear," he said, offering them and the socks he'd grabbed off the shelf to Jensen.

 

Jensen pulled the sneakers on and bounced on the ball of his feet, walking a few strides in them before he nodded. It felt so good to be out of flip flops.

 

Misha cleared his throat and definitely didn't noticed Jensen's bobbing on the balls of his feet and how that accentuated the fact that he didn't have anything on under the sweatpants. He was turning into a dirty old man. His father would be so proud of him. He looked up at the sky and scowled, because he could feel his Dad laughing at him, all the way from California. _Bastard_.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

Jensen stopped in front of another pair of shoes and smiled at them, picking them up. He would have loved a pair of running shoes, maybe for the beach, or playing outside with the kids, but one was more than he wanted to buy already.

 

"Hey," the cashier called. "It's buy one, get one half off. Just so you guys know."

 

Misha grinned brightly and turned to Jensen. "Excellent, let's pick out a second pair then. Do you see anything that catches your fancy?"

 

Jensen held up the running sneakers. "I'd like to try running in the morning?"

 

"Oh, yes!" Misha said eagerly, taking the box from Jensen as he tried the shoes on to make sure that they fit. More bobbing. More hard swallows and no imagination. His imagination was terrible anyways. Nevermind that he had a very solid picture to base things off of now. Still terrible.

 

"All right, we'll get both of these, and these packs of socks," Misha said, bringing them up to the girl at the counter. She got them both rung out in a matter of minutes and Misha elbowed Jensen when he caught him staring too hard at the total. "Don't worry about it. It's shoes."

 

Jensen frowned. He'd forgotten to look at the price tag. He would need to make sure that he did that wherever they went next. He was not going to let Misha spoil him when he only needed the essentials. Though, stepping outside in the sneakers was heaven compared to the flaps of fabric that passed for flip flops these days.

 

Misha stepped out and into the sunshine and looked up at it, smiling for a second. "All right, well, most of the other places we want to go are within walking distance. So, next, toiletries and underwear?"

 

"Yeah," Jensen said, looking down at the sweatpants. As comfy as this was, he couldn't wear sweatpants for however long it took him to get his memory back. "I'll have to try on a pair of your jeans when we get back. No sense in you buying me a pair if I can fit into yours," he reasoned.

 

Misha nodded, though the image of Jensen wearing his jeans was going to be something he'd be jerking off to for months. If not longer. He blew out a breath and focused on heading to the next store. Jensen needed a toothbrush and a few other things. "All right, on to our next stop then!" he said with a flourish.

 

Jensen trailed behind Misha and smiled when they stepped into another familiar store. He already knew what he wanted to get for bodywash. Whatever it was that Misha had smelled fantastic, and he wanted a bottle of it for himself. If only so he could remember what Misha smelled like when he was clean and fresh from the shower.

 

He grabbed a toothbrush and a small container of toothpaste and smiled when Misha threw in some razors as well. Jensen rubbed at his growing beard and chuckled. Yeah, razors were definitely a good call if he didn't want to look like a mountain man in the next few days.

 

He spied the bottle that he wanted for bodywash and tossed it into the cart, glad that the store had had it. He ignored the raised eyebrow from Misha and focused on heading for the next aisle. He had what he needed, now just to grab underwear!

 

Misha swallowed hard as he stared at the bodywash in the cart. Yeah, he wasn't imagining that. Jensen was going to keep smelling like him, since the jackass had decided to grab the same stuff he used. He resigned himself to dealing with Jensen smelling like him all of the time, and he was going to have to get used to the pleased curl of desire that gave him.

 

Too damn tempting for his own good.

 

Misha managed to order his dick to _behave_ and followed Jensen into the area with mens clothing and found him staring at a wall of packaged underwear, a frown on his face. He raised an eyebrow. "Everything all right, Jen?"

 

"I know a joke about underwear. But I can't remember it," Jensen said, frowning harder. He stared at each of the brands. It had something to do with a brand. There was a joke about it, with, with someone. But why would he make fun of someone's underwear?

 

Misha blinked, but Jensen looked to be getting progressively more frustrated. "Well, I don't know any underwear jokes, but plenty of dick ones, so if you need to expand your repertoire..."

 

Jensen laughed, his shoulders relaxing as he turned to look over at Misha. "Nah, I think I'm all right. I just wish I could remember. I walked into the aisle and I knew it had something to do with my past, and maybe someone in it."

 

Misha snorted. "You either have a best friend with no personal space, or a significant other with some really weird inside jokes," Misha said, walking up beside him. "Either way, you'll figure it out. Don't worry."

 

Jensen bit down on his lip at the mention of a partner. His heart told him no, that he didn't have anyone waiting for him at home. But how would he know? He couldn't remember anything. What if there was someone waiting for him and they were scared and worried? He sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair.

 

"What's wrong?" Misha asked, reaching out to touch Jensen on the shoulder and give it a small squeeze. "Is there something you remembered?"

 

Jensen shook his head. "No, nothing I remembered. Just. What if I do have someone out there, Mish? I don't think so, because it doesn't feel like it, like I'm missing something that big. But, what if I am? What if I don't remember them, or if I never remember them?" he started to tremble a little, reaching out for one of the packages, holding it tight in his hand. "What if I'm not the same person that they remember?"

 

"Hey," Misha said, turning Jensen around in the aisle, before wrapping his arms around him, hugging him tight. He had known that something like this would end up happening, and that Jensen would have his mini-breakdown as a result of everything that had happened. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

 

Jensen buried his face in Misha's neck and wrapped his arms tight around his waist, trying to breathe, but everything felt too tight and real and what if someone thought he was dead. "But-"

 

"No buts," Misha said, pulling away to look at Jensen, smiling at him. "It's going to be perfectly okay, and I'll tell you why. If you love someone, you're going to love them, all their imperfections, and potential memory loss."

 

Jensen chuckled despite himself and stared at Misha and leaned into the hands on his shoulders. "You think so?"

 

"Yes," Misha said with a firm nod of his head. "In fact, it would actually be a golden opportunity to start your relationship over, but without the fuck ups that new relationships run into, because they would already know everything about you that they need to, making it even easier!"

 

Jensen laughed and smiled at Misha, nodding a little bit. "I still don't think I have a wife or a husband stashed away somewhere, but if I do, I hope they're patient."

 

Misha reached out and tapped Jensen on the scruffy jaw. "Well, I would say that under that beard, there is a gentleman absolutely worth waiting for, no matter what memory he has lost. Now, we need to think a little more short term and figure out what underwear you want."

 

Jensen reached out to grab a pair of Hanes and caught a hint of the conversation from the next aisle over.

 

"I'm tired of playing clarinet Mom, I want to try Saxophone instead, and the band director said it was easy to go from one to the other!"

 

Jensen blinked and stared at the package. "Sax. Sax. That's it." His eyes lit up and he looked at Misha. "Sax! That's the name of the underwear!"

 

"The name of which underwear?" Misha asked. "The one you have as a joke?"

 

Jensen nodded and gave himself a pleased grin, putting the boxer briefs into their cart. "Maybe I'll look them up tonight and see if they jar anything else about my memory." He paused and looked at Misha. "You do have a computer, right?"

 

Misha laughed and nodded. "Yes, we're a little backwoodsy here, but I promise all modern amenities, including a computer with high speed internet."

 

Jensen grinned back at Misha and turned back to the cart. He stretched and relaxed. It felt good to remember something, even if it was a small something that didn't actually mean something in the grand scheme of things.

 

Misha led them to the food section and Jensen chuckled as he tossed in a variety of things for the kids' lunches. "At least they aren't picky eaters."

 

"Yeah," Misha agreed. "It's rather nice, that they picked up a varied food taste, but every once in a while, they'll like something and I do not understand."

 

Jensen snorted and raised an eyebrow at Misha. "Give me an example of something you don't understand them liking."

 

"Kale," Misha said. "West is absolutely head over heels in love with Kale. But he can't have a ton of it, because our bodies don't break it down easily, so I've managed to convince him that pretty much anything green he doesn't know the name of is kale."

 

Jensen burst out laughing, shaking his head at Misha. "Well, that's genius, right there. He's going to figure that out soon."

 

"Well," Misha said. "It's not horrible, I mean, he just thinks lettuce and cabbage are kale. He knows what carrots and celery and corn are."

 

"Oh yes, because that makes it better. I cannot believe you are bribing your son," Jensen teased, picking up a bundle of kale and waving it at Misha. "He's going to notice, and he's going to do it sometime in the near future, and you are going to be in so much trouble."

 

Misha snorted and rolled his eyes, taking the bundle of kale from him. "Oh yes, I'm sure that he will be furious. He'll be more angry I didn't tell him he was eating lettuce."

 

Jensen sniffed at the kale and frowned. "Isn't this the stuff health food fanatics are obsessed with?"

 

Misha laughed. "Yes, it is. But I know how to use it in healthy amounts, so I'm not nearly as worried about it. Now drop it into the cart and we'll head over to the fruit section."

 

By the time they were done shopping, Jensen could feel himself getting more and more tired. The doctors had warned him that this would be a regular thing until he had fully recovered from his almost-drowning. He helped Misha load up the car and then settled into the front seat, his eyes drifting shut.

 

Misha looked over at Jensen in the passenger seat and failed at not smiling. Jensen looked worn out. He would need to get Jensen tucked into bed when they got home. He was still recovering after everything.

 

Misha got the car parked and carried their bags inside before he came back for Jensen, opening the door and unbuckling his seatbelt for him. "Hey Jen, wake up," he coaxed, shaking him gently.

 

Jensen startled awake to the feel of cold water and shivered. Misha was staring at him in concern and he was dry and safe. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, sorry, must have dozed off."

 

"It's fine. You alright? You looked like you weren't have a good dream there," Misha asked, crouching down beside the car.

 

Jensen shook his head. "Thinking about the water. Whatever happened wasn't, well, pretty."

 

Misha nodded and reached out to squeeze his arm. "Come on. I think you need to lay down a little bit more. You're still recovering, and after you've rested, we can have lunch."

 

Jensen frowned a little as Misha helped him out of the car. "Don't we have to get the groceries?"

 

"Already did. Put them away and everything," Misha said with a smile, leading Jensen up to the house. He held the door open for him and gave a shallow bow, winking when Jensen scowled at him. He probably deserved that, but it looked like whatever he had been dreaming about was fading away.

 

"You should have let me help you, we got a lot of stuff," Jensen grumbled.

 

"I'm used to it," Misha said with a shrug. "I normally don't have another adult around here, remember?"

 

Jensen frowned and rubbed his hand through his hair. "So your ex isn't a part of the picture for you or the kids at all?" he asked, not even thinking about his words.

 

Misha stiffened and sighed, taking a deep breath. "No, my ex is no longer a part of their lives, at his request."

 

Jensen blinked and turned to stare at Misha. "His?"

 

"Yes," Misha nodded. "He's, well. He needed something different, and we both realized that far too late. But we parted ways on a positive note, and I know he's gone to do something that makes him happy."

 

His mind was spinning with questions, because if Misha's ex was a man, were both of the kids adopted? He thought of the scowl that West had given him that morning, so reminiscent of Misha's there was no way that West couldn't be his.

 

Misha cleared his throat and stopped in the kitchen. "Here, you should drink a water, and I think we've heard enough about my sordid past for the time being."

 

Jensen nodded and cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

 

Misha smiled. "I know, and I appreciate that. It's just not something I can talk about around the kids, so I just tend to try to forget that anything happened. It's easier that way."

 

"Do they remember him?" Jensen asked, unsure if that was also a topic off limits.

 

"Maison is too young. West does, but only little bits and pieces. I answer his questions honestly when he asks them, but I think he's still very confused," Misha said, getting himself a glass of water as well, sipping at it as he offered another to Jensen.

 

Jensen took a long sip of the water and hummed happily. He'd definitely needed a drink. "What made you get into woodworking?"

 

Misha laughed. "Least subtle subject change ever," he said.

 

Jensen shrugged. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

 

"I suppose so," Misha agreed, humming a little bit. "What made me get into woodworking. Everything, I suppose. I was a wild child once I hit my college years. Everything from protests to traveling and backpacking in China, including sneaking over the border..."

 

"You what?" Jensen asked.

 

"Yes, I snuck across the border, yes, we got caught, but I managed to convince them that we'd only made a mistake and they let us go," Misha said, shaking his head with laughter. "Oh god, we did so much stupid shit back in those days."

 

Jensen smiled and studied Misha. "What else did you do when you were younger?"

 

Misha hummed and settled down on one of the stools at the bar. "Well, we can go over my slightly less sordid history. So, when I was really young, I went through some rough stuff," he explained.

 

Jensen nodded and listened to Misha tell a variety of stories from his younger years, pranks that he played on other kids, how he'd gotten into acting, then fallen out of it just as quickly when he'd had kids. Halfway through another story of backpacking in the woods, Jensen yawned and he flushed in embarrassment.

 

"Tired?" Misha asked. "I won't take that as an insult to my storytelling. I know that you were tired before we even got home."

 

Jensen rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I'm sorry. You're a fantastic storyteller, but I think I'm dead on my feet."

 

Misha glanced over at the clock. "All right, well, I have a few hours before I need to go pick Maison and West up. So I'll get some work done if you want to go lay down?"

 

Jensen nodded and yawned again, heading for his bedroom, glass of water firmly in hand. "Sounds good, Mish. Wake me up when the kids are home and I'll help with dinner."

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

"Yeah," Misha called and watched as Jensen let himself into the guest room. He closed his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Fuck, he needed to stop teasing himself with the idea that Jensen was going to do something ridiculous like stay. Because it wasn't going to happen. Someone that looked like Jensen had been snapped up years and years ago, he was certain of it, even if Jensen wasn't.

 

He headed down into his workshop and immediately smiled at the sight of the wood he was working with. It was such a beautiful color, he was so glad that they had chosen it to work with. Misha rubbed his hand along the headboard that he was working on and hummed quietly to himself as he picked up from where he had left off last night.

 

With a little luck, he'd have the bed done in a few days, and the dresser, not long after that. Those were the two pieces they needed more immediately, and the rest, the night table and frame for the mirror would be much quicker than the others. Misha got so lost in the work, he almost didn't hear the alarm go off.

 

He shook himself a little bit and looked down at his shirt, peeling it off his chest. Misha gave himself a quick sniff and laughed. He definitely needed a shower before he went to go pick up the kids. Misha headed for the bathroom and froze when he heard a groan come from across the hall.

 

Afraid that Jensen might be having a nightmare, he immediately stepped back into the hallway. He peaked his head around the doorframe and froze. Misha stared and he needed to move, he needed to leave, right this second.

 

Jensen had pushed his sweatpants down his hips just enough so that his dick was free, and he was stroking himself, nice and slow. Misha covered his mouth so he didn't groan out loud like he wanted to. Jensen muffled another groan and rocked his hips up and into his fist and christ, Misha had never seen anything so gorgeous.

 

Jensen bit down on his lip to stifle another moan and Misha wished that he had a better angle, and then cursed himself for not moving, because he should have left the second he realized what was going on. Jensen deserved far better than someone perving on him from his doorway.

 

But, fucking christ, how come his cock had to be as gorgeous as the rest of him? That was just inhumane and completely unfair. Misha shifted so only his eyes were showing around the edge of the door and he pressed his hand against the front of his jeans. He'd need to jerk off in the shower without a doubt. Without a doubt.

 

Jensen was getting close and it was getting harder and harder for him to control the noise he was making, and fuck, Misha could not remember the last time he was this hard. Jensen was quiet enough that he never would have heard him downstairs, especially not over the sound of his tools, but jesus, like this? It was a front row seat to the best show in town.

 

Jensen's hips stuttered and then he was making a mess of himself, his back arching off the bed, his mouth falling open as he panted and Misha spun around, immediately striding for the basement door. He opened it quietly and then closed it firmly, trying to alert Jensen that he was now on this floor.

 

He went straight to his bathroom and stripped off his jeans, leaving them in a pile on the floor and shut the door behind him, turning on the shower a second later. Misha dropped one hand to the sink and squeezed himself through his boxers. Fuck, he was close, so close. He let the water warm up, dropped his boxers, and then stepped into the spray.

 

He immediately ducked his head under the water and was glad that he'd been able to make it here, because now he could fantasize properly. Misha closed his eyes, and the image of Jensen, on one of his beds, wearing his clothes, jerking himself off was right there and he barely managed to keep the groan in.

 

He gave himself a slow, easy stroke, glad that he could at least be a little bit noisy in the shower. Fuck, when was the last time he had done this and just enjoyed it and the the fantasy itself? Misha blew out a breath and rocked into his hand, just enjoying the slide.

 

He lifted his other hand and imagined that Jensen was on the bed again, but this time, he was standing at the foot, watching, and Jensen was putting on a show for him. Misha bit down a moan and lifted his other hand, slowly teasing his nipples, running his fingers up and over his neck. Fuck, it'd been too long since he'd slept with someone, he needed to get this out of his system.

 

Misha slowly scratched his nails over his chest and stroked faster. Jensen was enjoying giving the show, he could see it. He'd be blushing, of course, those freckles standing out, bright and beautiful. Misha smiled and imagined climbing onto the bed, between Jensen's thighs, watching as he stroked himself even faster than before.

 

It was so easy to get lost in this. So very easy. He blew out a breath and tried to focus on his dream again. Jensen would be so close, maybe even begging him now, his mouth falling open. He'd ask if he could come and Misha would just stare at him, how absolutely beautiful he was, the way his muscles would move as he rocked into his hand, getting desperate now.

 

He'd smirk and give the order for Jensen to come, and this time, there would be no muffling the noise that he would make. Jensen would shout, and his back would arch, because he was definitely more flexible than he was giving away. He imagined that Jensen would make a mess of himself, and then, then Jensen would look at him, his eyes pleading, his mouth falling open because he wanted, he wanted Misha to come on him-

 

Misha groaned, long and low, that image sending him completely over the edge. He gasped and shuddered his way through the orgasm, unable to keep from shaking as he leaned against the shower, catching his breath. _Holy shit_. Well, that had been a lot more vivid than he was expecting.

 

Misha blew out a breath and knew that he didn't have much time until he needed to leave to pick up the kids. He got himself washed and toweled off at top speed and definitely didn't think about how much he wanted to clean Jensen up with his tongue, rather than let the man shower.

 

"Jensen?" he called, tugging on his shoes. "I'm going to pick up the kids, I'll be back in a half hour, if you need anything while I'm out, let me know and I'll grab it."

 

"Kay," Jensen called, giving a yawn.

 

Misha took a deep breath and headed for the car. Other things not to think about, how good Jensen would look waking up from a nap after an orgasm. Definitely not something to think about. He needed to think about other things. Like picking up the kids and driving. Those were very important things and did not involve Jensen or jerking off.

 

~!~

 

Jensen groaned and pressed his hand to his face. Fuck, he shouldn't have tried to do that in bed, but the noise from downstairs had been steady, and Misha had been slowly turning him into a mess the entire day. Always being too close, giving him those toothy grins and teasing him, he'd had to get rid of the tension somehow, but a second shower would have looked a little suspicious.

 

Jensen double checked to make sure that Misha had left and immediately scrambled into the shower, making sure to open the windows, so there wouldn't be any suspicious smells either. He groaned and tilted his head into the spray, scrubbing at his face. The last thing he needed to be doing was lusting after Misha when he didn't have any idea of who the hell he was.

 

That would only end up being a mess for the both of them, and if it was a mess he could avoid, then he was absolutely going to do so.

 

~!~

 

Misha brought the kids back to the house with a stern order to play on things that were not the computer, tablet or television and got pouts from both of them before they headed out to the back yard. He kept an eye on them as they played together for a few minutes before separating to play with their own toys.

 

Misha caught the scent of his bodywash before he heard Jensen come up beside him. He smiled at him and bumped his shoulder. "How was your nap?"

 

Jensen yawned and smiled at Misha. "Definitely needed. Thanks for letting me get some sleep."

 

"Yeah," Misha said, looking back towards the kids in the backyard. "You know, you have them to thank for being found. West saw you on the beach."

 

Jensen blinked in surprise and turned to Misha. "You...?"

 

Misha shook his head. "I ran down there when I realized that there actually was a body on the beach and carried you back up here."

 

Jensen flushed and definitely didn't think about how Misha had carried him, seemingly without a problem, back up to the house. "Yeah, I wish I knew why I'd been out in that storm. Everyone was talking about it."

 

Misha shrugged. "It doesn't matter. A lot of times around here, storms can come up and out of nowhere. Even those of us that are familiar with the island get surprised with squalls from time to time."

 

Jensen nodded and looked out at the backyard again where West was doing cartwheels. He smiled. "I know how to do one of those. And backflips."

 

Misha watched as Jensen immediately headed for the backyard. He needed to start doing dinner, but he also wanted to see if Jensen could do a cartwheel.

 

It turned out that not only could Jensen do cartwheels, he could do round-offs, and back handsprings, all of which he was teaching his kids to do in a matter of minutes. Misha shook his head and focused on making dinner again. Jensen made them look easy, and while he performed them, he was clearly a little bit rusty and laughed at himself.

 

He took a deep breath and told himself that he absolutely did not need to think about how easily Jensen fit in around here, because he had no idea who Jensen was. Guilt settled deep into his stomach and he had to wonder if there was someone out there, worried sick about Jensen, thinking that he had died, when he was healthy and whole and playing with Misha's kids.

 

Misha shook his head and took a deep breath. If someone was looking for Jensen, they would have showed up days ago when he was in the hospital. That was one of the first places to check and no one had reached out about him. Which made him wonder why someone like Jensen was alone and likely sailing on a boat on his own.

 

He turned and refocused on dinner, making enough for the four of them, and it was hard not to think of how much he had wanted exactly this. Him raising the kids with his partner, laughing and teaching them everything they needed to, and then growing with them. Misha pressed a hand to his heart and took a deep breath.

 

"Mish?" Jensen called, brushing some of the grass from his hair as he stepped back into the living room. "Are you alright?"

 

Misha took another deep breath and turned to face Jensen, smiling at him. "I am absolutely fine. Just was thinking about something that's better left in the past."

 

Jensen stepped closer and Misha could see how his face was a little bit flushed from exertion and he was glad that he was hiding behind the counter, because he knew that Jensen flushed during other times too. "Don't worry about me," he added, maybe a bit too late.

 

"I don't believe that for a second," Jensen said, coming around the counter, wrapping an arm around Misha's shoulders to give him a squeeze. "I don't know what made you decide to let me stay here while I get everything figured out, but I appreciate it more than I can ever possibly tell you."

 

Misha swallowed hard and clenched his eyes shut, trying to breathe. Like this, he wanted to turn into Jensen's arms and hide his face in his throat. He wanted to not be a strong parent, just for a couple of minutes.

 

"And if part of saying thank you is to, you know, give you another adult to talk to, and lean against...well. I don't remember any life experiences to compare, but I can listen," Jensen offered. "And maybe give a hug. According to West I give good hugs."

 

Misha knew his face was burning and he cursed himself, and he was glad when the stove went off and he had a reason to pull away from Jensen and focus on their dinner. "I'll take you up on that," he said, looking over his shoulder to smile at Jensen. "And I appreciate you offering, though you don't have to."

 

Jensen nodded and reached out to squeeze Misha's shoulder. "Well, I gotta earn my keep somehow. And hugs and a listening ear seems like a pretty easy thing to do."

 

Misha gave a laugh that probably sounded nothing like an actual laugh, but he didn't know how to stop it once it started. He looked down at the stir fry that was starting to blur in front of him and then an arm was reaching out and turning the oven off. "Jen-"

 

He froze as warm arms were immediately wrapped around him and he was pulled in tight. Unlike the night he'd rescued Jensen, he was so warm now and Misha closed his eyes, stepping in closer so he could press his face to Jensen's shoulder. Maybe a hug would do him good.

 

"Do you need me to finish dinner while you go downstairs for a few minutes?" Jensen asked.

 

Misha shivered at the warm breath that was exhaled against his hair and it only made him want to nuzzle into Jensen all of the more. But a few minutes to compose himself was exactly what he needed. Before he thought about getting used to this. "Yeah, that'd be great, Jen," he said.

 

Jensen gave Misha another slow squeeze and then let him go, turning back to the oven, flicking it back on in an easy movement. "All right, get going. I'll bring the kids in in a second."

 

Misha nodded and immediately turned tail and walked to his workshop. He sank down into the seat and stared at the purple wood in front of him. He covered his face with his hands and groaned a little bit. He couldn't fall for Jensen. He _couldn't_. He absolutely could not afford to, because then Jensen would remember everything and that would be the end of anything between them.

 

He blew out a hard breath and forced himself to focus just enough to meditate and gave himself another five minutes before he headed back upstairs to where Jensen was helping West set the table, Maison in his arms. Misha almost turned and ran back downstairs, but he wasn't a coward, he was not going to run from this, no matter how many times Jensen kept looking like he was the other parent in the household.

 

Jensen caught his eyes and Misha smiled, walking over to where Jensen had everything spread out on the island. "Everyone ready for dinner?"

 

"Yes," Misha said, looking over Jensen. "How about you two? We're having stir fry tonight." Maison immediately gave a cheer as she settled into her seat and Misha grinned, getting the rest of the stuff organized as Jensen settled down.

 

After that, it was a simple discussion about how West's day at school had gone, and Jensen was so interested, asking questions, coaxing West out of his shyness almost immediately. Misha hid his face behind his glass of water when Maison threw some of her peppers at Jensen and he tossed one back at her. "No food fighting," he scolded, raising eyebrows at both of them.

 

"Sorry, Daddy," Maison mumbled, picking up the pepper and eating it.

 

Misha chuckled and turned to Jensen, keeping his eyebrows raised.

 

Jensen just gave him a cheeky grin and waggled his eyebrows. Misha snorted and rolled his eyes. "Come on, both of you, clear your plates. West, you have homework?"

 

"Yeah Dad," West said, finishing off the last of his milk.

 

"You finish it up and you get an extra fifteen minutes on the tv," Misha said, smiling at him.

 

"Awesome!" West said, scrambling out of his seat as he brought the dishes over to the sink. He dropped them in and immediately went for his backpack, digging through it for the rest of his stuff.

 

"And you," Misha said, smiling at Maison. "Clearly need a bath."

 

Maison pouted at him and Misha laughed, picking her up out of her chair and turned to Jensen. "You okay cleaning up?"

 

"Yeah, go give her a bath," Jensen called, watching as West started spreading his homework across his side of the table.

 

Misha nodded and carried her into the bathroom.

 

Jensen watched Misha go and started clearing the rest of the plates, putting them into the sink and getting them rinsed off.

 

"Do you like my Dad?"

 

Jensen blinked in surprise and turned to look at West. "Huh? Yeah, of course I do!"

 

West huffed and erased one of the answers on his science homework. "No, I mean, like him like him. You look at him like you do."

 

"What does that mean?" Jensen asked, chuckling a little bit. "Do you have someone that you look at like that?"

 

West wrinkled his nose. "Ew, no."

 

Jensen sat in the seat next to West and looked over his shoulder. "So what do you mean?"

 

"Well," West said, re-writing his answer. "You smile at him a lot. He makes you laugh. I don't think you laughed much before."

 

"Why?" Jensen asked and blinked when West turned to him and poked him in the corner of his eye.

 

"There. Dad has lines there from laughing. You don't. You should laugh more often. It's good for you, Dad always says so," West said, turning back to his homework.

 

Jensen smiled. "Some people don't get laugh lines. Maybe I'm just one of those people." But he couldn't shake the odd feeling that maybe West was right. Maybe he didn't laugh enough, wherever he came from. But he always laughed so easily with Misha and with the kids, that definitely couldn't be the case.

 

"So?" West said. "Do you like him? Like him-like him."

 

Jensen hummed a little and glanced towards the bathroom. "I don't know. I think I could. But not having any of my memory makes that a little harder."

 

"I guess," West agreed, frowning at a math problem. "But Dad likes you."

 

"He does?" Jensen asked, his eyes going wide and flying to the bathroom door again.

 

"Yeah," West said. "So be nice to him. Or I'll put worms in your bed."

 

Jensen burst out laughing before he could help himself, and the scowl West gave him was so Misha-like it almost made him start laughing all over again. "I promise that I will be nice to him. I definitely can do without worms in my bed."

 

"Good," West said. "Because I have a big can of them, for when we go fishing."

 

Jensen had no doubt that this was true, and he definitely didn't want to have his bed end up wormed any time soon. "All right, then I promise that I will be nice to your Dad."

 

West nodded firmly. "Can you help me with this?" he said, pointing to the problem.

 

Jensen leaned over West's shoulder and looked at the math problem and he relaxed at the basic algebra. This he knew how to do at least. But, how the hell did West know that Misha liked him? If Misha even did like him, because it was possible that he didn't at all, but he seemed so damn certain somehow.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

He shook himself and gave Misha another smile when he came back out with Maison, who was already starting to yawn. Misha put her down in her playpen and joined them at the table.

 

"How's the homework coming?"

 

West nodded and smiled up at his Dad. "Good. Jensen helped me with the math. So I'm good."

 

"I am very glad to hear that," Misha said, ruffling West's hair. "Did you finish the rest of your stuff?"

 

"Yeah," West said. "I already finished science and english was just reading, and I did that on the ride home."

 

"All right," Misha said. "Then finish up what you're working on and the television is yours."

 

"Are you going to work?" West asked, squinting at his Dad.

 

Misha laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm going to watch you kick my butt at video games, how about that?"

 

West immediately lit up. "Awesome!"

 

Jensen finished getting the table cleared off a few minutes later and he turned to look at where Misha was sitting on the couch next to Wes and they were both attempting to splatter each other with paint. He smiled and rested his hip on the side of the counter as he watched them.

 

He didn't know who Misha's ex was, but the man was obviously an idiot and also blind, because he couldn't see just how wonderful a family was right there in front of him. Jensen shook his head and left Misha to his playing with the kids and walked out onto the porch. He rubbed the back of his head and headed down to the beach. Maybe he'd remember something.

 

Jensen followed the porch steps down and headed onto the beach, looking out at the gentle lap of waves against the sand. He took his shoes off and stuffed his socks into them, leaving them on the last stair before he started to walk across the sand. Jensen rolled up his sweatpants and walked towards the water.

 

There was nothing though. No memory, only the plain water and him remembering exactly how cold it was this time of year. He sat down on the small crest of the sand and stared at the waves, his mind completely lost to the sound of the waves.

 

"Jensen?" Misha called.

 

Jensen looked up at Misha. "Are the kids all right?"

 

"Yeah, they both wanted me to make sure you were okay. West said that you'd walked down here."

 

Jensen snorted. "Your kid is too observant for his own good," he grumbled.

 

Misha laughed and sat down next to Jensen. "You won't hear me argue with you. He definitely is. Takes after his mother like that. She and I have been friends since we were in high school."

 

Jensen smiled and looked over at him. "Is she the Mom of both of your kids?"

 

"Yeah," Misha said. "She wanted to do that for me, rather than me try to find a different surrogate. I'll never be able to thank her for it."

 

"Must be a special lady," Jensen said, looking back across the water.

 

"She absolutely is," Misha agreed.

 

Jensen hummed and he stared at the water. He couldn't help wondering if there was someone like that waiting for him. But at the same time, he couldn't help knowing that there wasn't. He didn't have anyone like that.

 

"What's on your mind?" Misha asked, slowly bumping their shoulders together. "You look too lost in thought."

 

"I am, I suppose," Jensen agreed, resting his chin on his knees. "Was wondering if coming down here would jar any memories for me."

 

"Did it?" Misha asked.

 

"No," Jensen said, shaking his head. "I remember how cold the water was, and that's about it."

 

Misha hummed and looked up at the clouds starting to roll across the sky. "Are you worried you'll never remember?"

 

The thought hadn't occurred to him, but now that Misha had mentioned it, fear, curling slow into his gut was enough to make him stop breathing. "Maybe," he managed.

 

"Well," Misha said, smiling a little. "Don't worry about it. Brains are funny things, and they like being rather ornery. I'm sure your memories will start coming back soon enough."

 

"And if they don't?" Jensen asked, his voice shaking.

 

Misha looked at Jensen, at the way his jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists in the fabric of his sweatpants. "Hey, Jen, look at me."

 

Jensen swallowed hard and forced himself to look over at Misha, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

 

"Then they don't," Misha said simply. "That doesn't mean you stop living your life, Jen. It just means you have a few more roadblocks than the rest of us."

 

Jensen choked on a laugh and shook his head. "Mish, I don't have anything! I don't have a birth certificate, social security card, a college degree, hell, even a high school one!"

 

Misha reached out and wrapped his arm around Jensen's shoulders and gave him a slow squeeze. "And you are not the first person in this country to have lost their memory. I am sure there are things that you can do to piece your life back together. We'll figure it out."

 

"We'll?" Jensen asked, lifting his head to stare at Misha.

 

"Well, yeah," Misha said with a grin. "You think I'm going to throw you out when you're starting to get back on your feet?"

 

"You'd be well within your rights to do so?" Jensen offered up and sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair.

 

Misha gave a little bit of a growl and shook Jensen. "That's not the kind of person I am, Jen. If you never get your memory back, we'll figure things out, and you can stay with me until you do."

 

Jensen laughed again, and clenched his eyes shut, fighting down tears. "Going to be my white knight, Mish?"

 

"Well, someone has to be, clearly," Misha said, reaching up to ruffle Jensen's hair. "Besides, I think the kids like having someone other than me to ask for things. You're a big softie."

 

Jensen wouldn't admit that Misha was right and managed a smile. He shifted and leaned his head against Misha's shoulder. "You think someone is out there looking for me?"

 

Misha hummed and shifted so he could press his cheek to Jensen's hair. "I think if someone isn't looking for you, I would be outright astonished. You're a special guy Jensen."

 

"I don't think I'm dating anyone. Or married," Jensen blurted, not sure why he had said anything. Misha tensed under him and he cursed himself for saying anything at all. "I just, I think that it would feel different, like I would be missing so much more. I mean. I know that I have parents. I know that I-" he froze, blinking hard.

 

"Jen?" Misha asked, feeling Jensen's entire body go tense. "What's wrong?"

 

"I'm from Texas. I don't, I don't think that I live there anymore, but I grew up in Texas," Jensen said, pulling away from Misha to give him a delighted grin. He'd remembered something else! Something that was useless to him getting anywhere or finding anyone, but it was at least something.

 

"Just think," Misha said, reaching out to poke Jensen in the nose. "Next you'll be remembering your last name and then we can call off the search parties!"

 

Jensen laughed and wrinkled his nose at Misha. If there were search parties out there for him, as far as he was concerned, they could stop looking. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be found. Not when he was here, like this. "So you're essentially going to take in a man who has no idea who he is, where he's from, other than Texas, and get him on his feet again?"

 

Misha nodded, reaching out and ruffling Jensen's hair again. "You got that right mister american. We'll figure something out for you. Whether you help me in the shop or something else."

 

Jensen smiled and went back to leaning his head against Misha's shoulder. It was rather comfortable like this. "Hey Mish?" he asked after a few minutes of easy silence.

 

"Yeah Jen?"

 

"Your ex was an idiot," Jensen said. He felt Misha jerk away from him and turned to look into surprised blue eyes. He grinned. "A real fucking idiot, since I can swear without the kids around."

 

Misha swallowed hard and looked away from Jensen. His eyes were so damn green like this, he just wanted to fall into them for hours and hours. He stared out at the ocean. "Well, we weren't what he needed, and that's okay. That's his choice, and that's how this works. I'm just glad he left when he did and he didn't try to drag things out and make them even worse."

 

Jensen nodded and reached out and grabbed Misha's chin, turning it towards him. The roughness of the stubble made him smile. Misha hadn't bothered to shave this morning, clearly, and he couldn't help but smile. "Mish, your kids are amazing. The fact that you manage to keep them so organized by yourself is a miracle that I am impressed with the longer that I am here."

 

Misha was pretty positive that he had stopped breathing, and fuck, he couldn't look away from Jensen, not now, not like this. "Ah, thanks," he managed, shaking a little bit from the grip that Jensen still had on his chin. "I just happen to be more than a little anal and that works well with raising kids apparently."

 

"Right," Jensen agreed, smiling at him again. "And the fact that you would open your home up to me without a second thought tells me exactly what kind of person that you are."

 

Misha nodded, because he wasn't sure that he could anything else. "Jen, you," he cleared his throat. "I don't do flings. If I'm reading this right."

 

Jensen grinned and leaned in. "You are," he said, kissing Misha, soft and gentle, just the easy press of their lips together. He didn't bother pressing for more, not when he knew both of the kids were still awake, but even that simple touch was enough to shake him all the way to his core.

 

Misha stayed frozen in place as Jensen pulled away and he struggled to make his eyes open so he could look at the other man. "What if you're with someone else?"

 

Jensen shook his head. "I'm not. I know I'm not. I wouldn't have done that if I wasn't sure. But I know that I'm not with someone," he said, leaning in for another soft kiss. "Besides, I promised your son that I would treat you nice, and this fits right into what my definition of nice is."

 

Misha couldn't help laughing against Jensen's lips. "Speaking of my son, who is probably spying on us from his bedroom, we should head back up before it starts getting properly cold around here."

 

Jensen pulled back and stretched, standing up. He looked back out at the water. The idea of never getting his identity back was still daunting, but it was a lot less so when he knew that he was going to have a place, and people waiting for him either way. He smiled and followed Misha back upstairs.

 

"Eavesdropping," Misha grumbled, glancing up at the window and the way the curtain fluttered. Well, West had absolutely seen that, which meant that he was going to have to field a lot of very interesting questions in the next few days. He pushed his fingers through his hair and resisted the urge to touch his lips. He could still feel Jensen's kiss, and damn if he didn't want to get a proper kiss from the man.

 

But here he was, taking advantage when Jensen didn't have anyone or anything. He was latching on to the first thing that had treated him properly and Misha would need to put a stop to it before it went any further. He headed to the dishwasher and got it loaded, and turned to look at Jensen, only to find him playing a video game with West.

 

The sight made his heart turn over and he headed for the bedroom. He needed a minute to gather his thoughts. _Again_. Damn, Jensen had him twisted up in so many knots. He needed to get this sorted out and then he had to tell Jensen that there was nothing that could happen between the two of them. The kids were his priority over everything and they were the most important one.

 

Misha opened his eyes and looked at the bed that he'd made, and the armoire that he had carved and given as a wedding present and covered his face with his hand. He could easily imagine Jensen putting his things into this room. His sneakers by the front door, his laugh when West told a story from school.

 

Misha blew out a breath and shook his head. It wasn't going to happen. Jensen was going to remember everything about his old life, and then he was going to go back to it. It was as plain and simple as that. He needed to remember it, and he needed to make sure that he didn't do something stupid like get his heart broken.

 

He ignored the treacherous part of his heart that said it was already heading towards too late territory. It was not too late. He'd known the man for a matter of days.

 

And yet Jensen had fit into his life so easily, it was like he had been meant to be there all along. Misha shook his head again and forced himself to focus. He needed to get the kids into bed and then he needed to go downstairs and work until he was so tired that he couldn't think anymore. _Yes_. That would be perfect.

 

Misha took another deep breath and headed back into the living room. He was glad that Jensen wasn't looking at him, because he wasn't sure that he could look Jensen in the eyes right now. He glanced at the clock and smiled. "West, five more minutes and then you're done," he called, picking up Maison and carrying her to her bedroom.

 

She yawned against him and he heard Jensen grumbling as West managed to splatter him entirely with paint. Misha smiled and got Maison changed for bed and then helped her crawl into bed. She pouted at him and Misha smiled, grabbing a book from her bookshelf and holding it up for inspection.

 

"Want Jensen," she said, pouting at him.

 

Misha glanced towards the door and fought the urge to call Jensen in there. Maison wouldn't have Jensen forever, it was better if she didn't get used to him. "I'm going to read you a story instead. Do you want this story or do you want a different one?"

 

"Jensen!" Maison said. "Please, Daddy? Want Jensen to sing."

 

Misha sighed and looked towards the doorway. "Okay baby girl, I'll go get Jensen."

 

"No worries, I'm already here," Jensen said, smiling as he sat down on the other side of Maison's bed. He looked up at Misha and smiled. "West is getting ready for bed and brushing his teeth. I'll take care of Maison's book if you want to get him settled?"

 

Misha nodded and stood up, watching as Maison settled happily into bed, an arm clenched tightly around her teddy bear as she stared at Jensen. He couldn't help staring as well. Fuck, what was he going to do when Jensen ended up leaving. The kids had gotten so attached in such a short amount of time. He blew out a hard breath. He needed to put a stop to this and he needed to do it now. It would be better for all of them.

 

"Hey Dad," West said, sitting up in bed, his bedside lamp on. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

 

Misha was instantly on alert and sat down. "Yeah, what's up?"

 

West huffed and put his hands on his hips. "Jensen likes you."

 

Misha wanted to laugh if he couldn't still feel the ghost of Jensen's lips on his. "I know that he does."

 

"Are you going to do something about it?" West asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "I like him, he knows how to do gymnastics."

 

One more thing to add to the unanswered pile of Jensen questions, how the man knew how to do gymnastics. Misha smiled at him. "I think that's going to depend on Jensen and him getting his memory back. If he has someone else-"

 

West huffed. "He doesn't. He promised to treat you nice and I saw you guys on the beach-"

 

"Haven't we talked about eavesdropping?" Misha asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

"I wasn't listening!" West protested. "Just watching!"

 

Misha laughed and shook his head. "It still counts. Spying on me."

 

"I wanted to make sure he kept his promise!" West said, huffing a little.

 

West looked a little bit too much like him, Misha couldn't help laughing as he leaned in to kiss West's forehead. "Would it make you feel better to know that he treated me very nicely?"

 

"Yes," West said, settling into bed and yawning when his Dad turned off the lamp.

 

"Well, then feel better, because he has been a complete gentleman this entire time," Misha said, reaching out to ruffle West's hair. "Now, we'll figure things out, I promise. You get some rest."

 

West yawned again and nuzzled into the pillow. "Okay, Dad," he agreed, closing his eyes. He smiled a little bit. "I really do like him. Jensen, I mean."

 

"Me too," Misha whispered and closed his eyes, looking up at the ceiling. Jensen leaving was going to leave a hole in all of them and he wasn't ready to deal with it just yet. He waited until West's breathing had evened out and he closed the door behind him, smiling a little at the sight of Jensen on the couch, reading gone of his books.

 

"She was out like a light," Jensen said, looking up at Misha with a smile. "I think she got tired out today."

 

"Speaking of being tired. I saw you doing cartwheels earlier. Do you remember where you learned how to do that?" Misha asked, sitting on the edge of the couch, looking down at Jensen.

 

Jensen shrugged. "I have a feeling I learned it when I was young, because I was definitely rusty with them. But I knew how to do it, so I'd say that I did it enough to have the body motions memorized."

 

Misha smiled and shook his head. "You aren enigma, without a doubt, Jensen."

 

"Well, I have to keep you guessing," Jensen teased, repeating Misha's words from a few days ago.

 

Misha laughed. "Well, now that was rather smart of you. I'm going to head down to my workshop and get some more stuff done today. If you need anything, you should come down, I'm going to be using power tools. I won't hear you."

 

Jensen nodded and settled back into the couch. "Got it."

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Jensen watched Misha leave and turned back to his book. He couldn't focus on the pages, no matter how hard he tried. He shifted his attention to the television and turned it on low, hoping that he would be able to focus on that. But no, of course not. It just reminded him that Misha was downstairs, that they could make as much noise as they wanted down there and the kids wouldn't hear them.

 

He took a deep breath and ordered his dick to behave. He needed to keep his paws off Misha, since he had been pushing Misha enough earlier. Except, of course, now that he'd thought of it, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Jensen had never seen what Misha did downstairs, so maybe he could just go watch and then jerk off again to the sight every day for the rest of his life. 

 

He put the book down and stood up slowly. That definitely sounded like a good idea. He checked on both of the kids to make sure that they were sleeping soundly before he quietly opened the door to downstairs. A loud buzzing noise immediately hit his ears and he quickly closed the door behind him, walking down the steps. 

 

Misha hadn't been kidding about the sound being loud. Jensen shivered and walked down the stairs. He stopped at the base of the stairs and took in the sight of Misha, carefully bent over a circular saw, cutting pieces off in easy motions. 

 

While the ease of the motion was impressive, Jensen was far more pre-occupied with how much the white shirt was sticking to Misha's torso, sweat making it clear and giving him a perfect picture of Misha's muscles as they moved. He swallowed hard and sat down on one of the steps to just take in Misha. 

 

It was a turn on to watch Misha move with ease, all of his attention focused on the wood in front of him. Jensen's heart tightened in his chest and he couldn't help imagining being the focus of that kind of attention. As it was though, Misha's pants slipped lower and he could see golden skin peeking out between the waistband of his jeans and the edge of his shirt. 

 

Jensen bit down a groan and watched a small droplet of sweat start to gather at that bit of skin. He wanted to kneel down and lick it away, then peel the shirt off and lick Misha all over. He smiled and waited until Misha had set the circular saw down and turned it off before he called out. "What are you working on?" 

 

Misha jumped and dropped one of the dowels he had just finished cutting and turned to stare at Jensen, who was sitting on the steps like he had been there for hours. "What's going on? Are the kids all right?" 

 

Jensen stood up and stepped off the lowest stair, walking closer to Misha. "The kids are fine. There's no issue, it's okay. I wanted to see what you were working on." 

 

Misha blew out a hard breath and picked up the dowel. Of course. Jensen was only interested in what he was working on. Even still, his eyes looked like they were glowing, almost emeralds in the light of his office. "It's another piece of their headboard. I'm almost done carving that, but I needed to work on some other things tonight." 

 

Jensen nodded and looked up, studying the sturdy beams of the basement and then behind him at the staircase. He turned back to Misha with a raised eyebrow. "You built more than the furniture for this place, didn't you?" 

 

Misha smiled and nodded. "Yeah. Built the whole house from the ground up. I moved out here for a year or so while I worked through it. Used to have to run across the street to use the bathroom at the gas station before I got the plumbing all set up." 

 

Jensen stared at him with wide eyes and Misha squirmed, shrugging. "It was one way to guarantee the work was done right, and I loved doing it." 

 

"You built your house?" Jensen asked, his voice soft. "You built all of the furniture in it too, didn't you?" 

 

Misha swallowed hard as Jensen walked closer to him. "Yes. The beds for the kids, my bed, the armoire, the furniture in your room." 

 

"Jesus," Jensen whispered, shaking his head as he stared at Misha, less than a foot away now. "You're incredible, Mish. I wouldn't even know where to start with something like that." 

 

Misha smiled. "A two by four is usually the best place to start." 

 

Jensen huffed out a laugh and reached out, running his thumb over Misha's cheek. "Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when you are working on something down here?" 

 

Misha scoffed and rolled his eyes. "You mean while I get hot, sweaty and an absolute mess that smells like sawdust down here?" 

 

"Well," Jensen said, reaching up to dust some of the sawdust out of Misha's hair. "I would agree with the hot and sweaty part, but instead of mess, I would say sexy, beautiful, breath-taking..." 

 

Misha absolutely did not blush. "No, no, no, you're the beautiful one, not me." 

 

Jensen laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm the one who had the good fortune to end up washed up on your beach." 

 

He had more protests. He did. But Jensen was leaning in and kissing him again, and Misha wasn't sure that he wanted to bother protesting anymore when Jensen slowly pressed him back against his workbench. He groaned and lifted himself up to sit on it, spreading his legs so Jensen could step in closer to him. 

 

Jensen groaned and immediately dropped his hands to Misha's waist, his fingertips going to that exposed strip of skin, stroking over it slowly. He tugged on the bottom of the shirt, pushing it up just enough so he could get his bare hands on Misha's skin and all over it like he wanted to. 

 

"Jensen," Misha protested, shivering as Jensen growled against his lips and pressed a kiss to his neck. "Jen, this is definitely not a good idea." 

 

"Mmm," Jensen agreed, pulling back to look at him. "It might not be a good idea, but I think you want to do it anyways, don't you?" 

 

Misha stared at Jensen, at the way his eyes glittered, and his mouth was turned up in a little smirk. At the way he couldn't look away from him, and how possessive his hands were on his waist. "Fuck, yes I do," he growled, yanking Jensen into another kiss, until they were pressed together, and he was going to thank his foreplanning for making his work table just the right height. 

 

Jensen pushed Misha's shirt up a little bit higher, leaning him back and over the table, falling into the kiss with the other man. It was easy to lose himself in the rhythm of it, kissing Misha until the both of them were desperate for air. When they had to pull apart for a moment, they were both gasping for air and fuck, he didn't want to stop. 

 

"Right," Misha panted, getting himself a little more upright. "Now, I designed this table, and I know it is more than sturdy enough." 

 

Jensen raised both of his eyebrows. "Sturdy enough for what?" 

 

Misha tugged his pants down and over his hips and gestured to Jensen. "Get the damn pants off already," he growled. "You're the right height, so get over here and take advantage." 

 

"Mish," Jensen said, laughing a little. "Did you design your work table-"

 

"With the knowledge that I would likely get jumped at least once while working? Yes, I did, now can we stop thanking past me and get on with it?" Misha added, pulling his shirt up and off his head, raising an eyebrow at Jensen. 

 

"All right, all right," Jensen said, stripping his shirt off. It was very gratifying to have Misha stare at him and lick his lips, and the sweatpants were easy enough to kick off. 

 

"It's rather unfair, you wearing my clothing. It ups your hotness by at least ten. Need to buy you your own clothes," Misha grumbled. 

 

Jensen laughed and stepped between Misha's legs again, and Misha moved a little bit, scooting forward and sliding off the edge of the table, allowing them to grind together. "Never. I like how you look at me when I'm wearing them," he teased, leaning in for another kiss. 

 

Misha wrapped both of his arms around Jensen's shoulders and pulled him in for a proper kiss, getting himself situated with one leg pressed up and against Jensen. "You know that this would be easier in a bed?" he panted. 

 

"You want to risk the kids walking in on us?" Jensen asked, shifting so he could lick a slow line up Misha's throat, watching him groan. "Besides, I'm a real fan of where we are right now." 

 

Misha wanted to laugh as he tilted his head back, shuddering when Jensen rocked his hips forward again, grinding against him, nice and slow. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me." 

 

"You are beautiful when you're working," Jensen purred into Misha's ear, sucking hard on the lobe. Misha bucked underneath him and Jensen rode out the motion, sucking harder and giving a small bite. "I couldn't stop staring at you, so intent, so focused..." 

 

"You're talking too much," Misha growled, shifting so he could yank Jensen back into another kiss and shut the other man up. Jensen groaned into his mouth and Misha shifted them again, lining them up properly so he could wrap his hand around them both. Jensen gasped into his mouth and he smirked. 

 

"Yeah, callouses feel good, don't they?" Misha said, nipping at Jensen's lower lip. "Bet that this feels damn good." 

 

"Now who is talking too much?" Jensen growled, leaning in to kiss Misha again. This time he didn't let Misha take control of the kiss. He pushed Misha back and against the work table as Misha's hand worked them both over, his hips driving into every single motion of his hands. 

 

"Fuck," Misha groaned, his head falling back as he sucked in air. It was too hot and too humid in here. He scratched at Jensen's back, trying to pull him in closer. "Come on, come on, come on," he gasped, his hips bucking into the touch over and over again. 

 

Jensen groaned, his mind swimming as Misha kissed him harder, pulling him in closer as he kept up the stroking, driving him absolutely wild. "Mish, not gonna, not gonna-"

 

"It's fine," Misha interrupted, laughing a little as he pulled Jensen into another kiss. "We'll do this in a bed, or when we can plan properly and you can pay me back and do whatever you want," he promised. 

 

"I'll hold you to that," Jensen growled, dropping his hands to Misha's ass and giving a slow squeeze. 

 

Misha groaned, his hips stuttering as he moved his hand even faster, his thumb catching on the heads of their dicks, smearing the precome down the side. "Just remember I'll pay you back in kind for anything that you do. Fair enough?" 

 

"Yeah," Jensen growled, sucking a mark into Misha's collarbone, Misha's taste combined with the sweat from working was intoxicating and he couldn't get enough of it. He wanted more, needed so much more than he had right now. "Come on, Mish, so close," he begged. 

 

"Don't worry," Misha said, tilting his head so he could catch Jensen in another kiss. He dropped his other hand and gave Jensen's balls a small squeeze and teased a finger behind them to press at Jensen's perineum. Just like that, Jensen jerked against him and cried out. 

 

Misha pulled back enough to watch him arch, his eyes slamming shut before he was swelling and then coming all over the both of them. He stroked the both of them twice more before Jensen's hand was knocking his away and wrapping around him. Misha shuddered and grabbed for Jensen's shoulders, holding on as he shouted, making a mess all on top of Jensen's. 

 

Jensen slumped on Misha and pressed his face to Misha's neck, inhaling his scent for several long seconds before he forced himself to move. They were sweaty and sticky, and they both needed a shower. Hopefully together. He leaned in and kissed Misha softly, just relaxing into him as they both came down from the desperate high. 

 

"You know," Misha whispered as soon as their lips were parted. "As hot as it is in the moment, it's decidedly less so when I know that there's a huge saw about two inches from my back." 

 

Jensen immediately laughed and pressed their foreheads together. "But worth it?" Misha met his eyes and his breath caught. Fuck, he was getting in way deeper than he should be if he was getting lost in Misha's eyes. But there were a different color now. Darker, deeper, and so damn beautiful he was positive that no one else was ever going to compare. 

 

"Yeah," Misha agreed, his voice soft as he leaned in for another kiss. "Very worth it." 

 

Jensen shivered and leaned into the kiss before looking at the mess the two of them. "I think that we need to clean up." 

 

Misha hummed and reached up and pressed his finger to Jensen's nose. "Come on. Take a minute. Afterglow is a thing," he said, tugging Jensen in again, pressing a slow kiss to Jensen's forehead. He slid his lips down the bridge of his nose, to the tip, and then to his lips again. 

 

Jensen shivered and leaned into Misha, melting at the soft kisses. When Misha kissed him again, he leaned in close and groaned softly, wrapping his arms around Misha to pull him in close. He didn't give a shit if he never got his memory back. This was what he needed, no matter what. 

 

They stood together for another few minutes before Jensen pulled back and smiled at Misha. "I do not want to be flaky. So, I am going to go shower. In your shower. If you want to join me, well. It's your shower," Jensen said, grinning at Misha as he picked up his sweatpants and shirt. 

 

Misha groaned as Jensen walked up the stairs, completely naked. He looked at the wood behind him. He could give up working on it for the rest of the night. If only because the thought of Jensen in his shower was enough to have him completely distracted. He didn't need to try nearly cutting off another finger. 

 

He picked up his sweatpants and pulled them on, wrinkling his nose at them, before he grabbed his shirt and tossed them both in the hamper. He smiled at the sound of the shower and headed into the bathroom. 

 

Jensen was waiting for him, his body wet and dripping and Misha groaned, stepping into the shower after him. "You do know that I'm not twenty anymore and my recovery time isn't that good?" 

 

Jensen laughed and tugged him in for a kiss. "Well, I guess we'll have to see how good your recovery time is." 

 

Misha let himself be pulled in for another kiss and completely lost himself in Jensen, and in the slide of their bodies together. 

 

Turned out, his recovery time was better than he remembered. 

 

~!~ 

 

The rest of the week, and then the next, went by without any changes. Jensen smiled as he finished cooking dinner, bumping his hip into Misha's as he did. Things kept coming back to him. Small bits and pieces. He was pretty sure he lived in California, and somewhere in Vancouver. 

 

But even still, he wasn't all that eager to find something that would take him away from Misha. So he kept a few of the revelations to himself. Like his mother's name. As well as where he had gone to high school. The pieces that came back were almost random, but he didn't want the rest to come back. 

 

Not when he was here, and in love with Misha. Jensen paused in stirring the pasta and took in the sight of Misha chopping the vegetables while West and Maison played in the backyard. There was something to be said about this kind of a life, and he never wanted to give it up. 

 

Not to mention, he was pretty sure that Misha was in love with him too. He hadn't slept in his old bed for the past week, and he'd moved most of his things into Misha's room. He knew that he and Misha needed to talk about what was going on between them, what this was, if only so they could make sure that the kids didn't end up confused...but Jensen knew what he was going to do. 

 

He just had to figure out how to tell Misha everything. That he wanted to stay. That he wanted to move into Misha's bedroom with the intent of not moving out again. Jensen smiled and moved away from the pasta as Misha added the vegetables in. "Thanks, Mish," he said, humming when he received a soft kiss in return. 

 

"So, I have to take the set to the lovely couple tomorrow," Misha said, smiling. "Would you like to come with me?" 

 

Jensen grinned, bright and wide. "Yeah, I'm sure they're going to love it." 

 

"They'd better after all of the work I put into it," Misha said with a laugh, shaking his head. "But we'll deliver it tomorrow. We just need to assemble the bed and the dresser for them, but that shouldn't take long at all." 

 

Jensen nodded and left Misha to the pasta, going to get the plates, and setting the table. "Sounds good. What were their names again?" 

 

"Charlie and Gilda. You'll like them. Charlie can be a bit loud, but Gilda is someone you will get along with," Misha said, turning to look over his shoulder. "She appreciates her quiet time, like you." 

 

Jensen laughed, shaking his head as he finished setting the table. "I'll get the kids and get them washed up." 

 

Misha nodded. "Sounds good, food should be ready in fifteen. So go start your wrangling now." 

 

Jensen nodded and made his way outside as they got ready for dinner. "Can do!" 

 

Misha watched him head outside to talk to the kids and couldn't help smiling. Maybe. Maybe he would get to keep this. He wanted to. More than anything else he had ever wanted. (Except a chocolate house. Nothing topped chocolate houses.)


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Jensen grunted under the weight of the bedframe as they carried it to the truck and got it situated. "What do you do when someone else isn't here to help you carry this stuff?" he called.

 

"Find someone who is willing to schlep it for me!" Misha said, laughing as they pushed it into the truck. "But they don't look as good as you do sweaty, so I'm rather glad it's you," he teased, hooking his fingers in Jensen's (his, technically) jeans to pull him in for a kiss.

 

Jensen grumbled and smiled into the kiss. "You promised me things, what can I say?"

 

Misha smirked into the kiss and then gave Jensen a little push back from him. "I did, and I'll make good on those promises after we get these things delivered."

 

Jensen rolled his eyes and climbed into the van beside Misha and reached out to put a hand on his thigh, giving it a slow squeeze. He watched the island go by as Misha drove. Apparently they were in for a little bit of a ride, and he had time to relax.

 

"Jen?"

 

Jensen blinked himself awake and looked over Misha, who was grinning at him. "Shit."

 

"Yeah, sleeping beauty. You ready to help me offload?" he asked.

 

Jensen nodded and grinned at him. "I am, let's get this set up for them."

 

He met Charlie and Gilda only a few minutes later and grinned at them both. It was easy to see they were close to Misha, laughing and teasing him as he brought the wood in. Gilda though, she kept looking at him and frowning, and Jensen couldn't help wondering what the hell her problem was.

 

They set the bed up in record time, and helped the girls get the mattress onto the bed. Jensen leaned against the doorframe and watched Misha assemble the dresser quickly and easily. He moved confidently and Jensen knew he probably had a sappy fucking look on his face.

 

"You don't know that it's him," Charlie hissed.

 

"I do, look at those eyes! You think it could be anyone else? And the first name is right!" Gilda said, casting a glance at Jensen. "It has to be him!"

 

Charlie frowned down at the piece of paper in Gilda's hands. "And he said he's staying on the island. We need to call him!"

 

Jensen looked over his shoulder and frowned at the two women. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

 

Charlie swallowed and shared a look with Gilda. "Jensen. Do you still not remember anything?"

 

Jensen shrugged. "I remember enough. It's coming back in bits and pieces, why?"

 

"Because," Charlie said, taking the paper from Gilda to hand it to Jensen. "I think that your last name is Ackles. And I think that someone named Jared is looking for you."

 

Jensen froze and stared at the paper she was handing out to him. It was a print out for a missing person's ad. He took it, unable to look away.

 

Jensen Ross Ackles. Age: 31 Height: 6'1" Eye Color: Green Hair Color: Blonde

 

Last seen: Sailing on a yacht between Vancouver Island and Vancouver.

 

If seen: Contact Jared Padalecki 1-111-867-5309

 

Underneath the description was a picture of him. He was almost frowning, staring into the camera in a challenging way. His legs buckled underneath him and he heard Charlie shouting for Misha. Everything was black, except for the name. _Ackles_. His last name was Ackles.

 

"What happened?" Misha said, cradling Jensen's head in his lap.

 

"We," Gilda started and shivered when cold blue eyes stared at her, demanding answers. "I had this from when I went to town yesterday. A guy was handing them out. Misha, that's Jensen. That's his picture on that missing person's ad."

 

Misha picked up the piece of paper and stared at it. He swallowed hard and looked back down at Jensen. It looked like the dream was over. He brushed some of the hair off of Jensen's forehead and tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. "We need to call the hospital, I don't know what to do. That probably triggered something it wasn't supposed to."

 

Charlie immediately scrambled for the phone and Misha stared down at Jensen, his chest aching as he checked his pulse and made sure it was still beating, hard and strong. He forced himself to take a deep breath as Charlie explained what had happened. There was an ambulance on the way.

 

Misha nodded and blinked slowly, making sure that none of the tears were going to fall. Someone had been looking for Jensen, just like he had thought. He had been foolish to think that he would get to keep him. As much as he wanted to, and he did. He wanted to keep Jensen with him forever, but it wasn't meant to be.

 

"Misha," Charlie called. "The ambulance is here."

 

Misha moved on automatic, following the EMTs as they checked Jensen out. He looked back at Charlie, clearing his throat. "I, I mean, I'll call the school, can you-"

 

"We'll pick the kids up, Misha, I promise," Charlie said, offering him the crumpled piece of paper.

 

Misha took it and clenched it into his fist. He wanted to rip it to pieces, shred it and pretend that it had never existed. But Jensen was more important, and he had a life that he needed to go back to. One that probably missed him. He climbed into the ambulance and took Jensen's hand, studying his profile.

 

"He's going to be fine."

 

Misha looked up at the EMT and managed to give her a small smile. Jensen was going to be fine. Better than fine, especially if he had his memories back. He wasn't nearly as sure about himself. He took a deep breath and sat back, letting them do their work.

 

Samantha was waiting for him at the hospital and Misha followed her into the hospital, sitting down into a wait room. Jensen would be fine. He would be fine, everyone told him. When he got assigned a room, Misha joined him, sitting in the small plastic chair by his bedside. He glanced at the clock. The kids would be out of school soon, and he'd need to pick them up from Charlie and Gilda.

 

He called the school and let them know of the change and then settled in next to Jensen again. It wasn't long before he started to stir, his green eyes blinking slowly. Misha felt his heart clench when Jensen squeezed his hand tight.

 

"Mish?" Jensen slurred.

 

"I'm right here," Misha said, his voice soft. "Are you okay, Jensen?"

 

"Okay is really fucking relative," Jensen grumbled. "Shit, the kids aren't here, are they?"

 

Misha wanted to laugh, and he held onto Jensen's hand tighter, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of it. "No, the kids aren't here, swear away."

 

Jensen relaxed and focused on opening his eyes without pain. He took a deep breath and looked over at Misha. "What the hell happened? I remember carrying the furniture in, watching you build it and then..." he blinked. " _Oh_."

 

Misha nodded. "Do you remember anything else?"

 

"I was sailing," Jensen said. "I wanted a week. I wanted to just get away from everything in Vancouver for a week. Jared, Jared's my best friend." he laughed a little and sank back into the cushions. "We film together. We were in a tv show, and now we're in a movie together."

 

"So you're an actor," Misha said, unable to keep from grinning a little. He'd guessed actor or model, especially with Jensen's looks.

 

"Yeah," Jensen said, wrinkling his nose a little bit. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Is Jared here?"

 

Misha nodded. "That's what the flyer says. As soon as you feel up to it, I'll call him."

 

Jensen opened his mouth, but Misha had turned away and was staring at the flyer. He snapped it shut and closed them again. So that was the end of the daydream, now that he knew who he was again, everything was going to go back to what it had been before.

 

He'd been happy before. He _had_. Jared was his best friend, they even lived near each other. But he had been right. There was no one that he was dating. But Jared was married. He had kids. He was Uncle Jensen. A small laugh left him.

 

"Jen?" Misha asked, looking up at him.

 

"Remember how you asked me how I was so good with kids?" Jensen asked, turning his head a little to look at him. "Jared has kids. I'm an Uncle."

 

Misha smiled and leaned down to kiss Jensen's fingers again. "That definitely makes sense."

 

"Yeah," Jensen agreed, blowing out a slow breath as he relaxed back into the pillows. "Do you want me to call him?"

 

Misha shook his head. "Nah. I can. Hospital wants to keep you overnight for observation. But he'll want to know that you're here, that you're safe."

 

Jensen smiled and squeezed Misha's hand. "Okay. That sounds good. Thank you, Mish."

 

Misha watched Jensen fall back into the pillows and doze off again. He slowly slipped his hand out from Jensen's and pulled out his phone, dialing the number on the paper that was definitely not shaking in his hands.

 

"This is Jared."

 

Misha closed his eyes. Jared sounded so tired and worried. Misha couldn't blame him. "Hello Jared. My name is Misha Collins. I'm calling from the Victoria hospital. I found Jensen on a beach a little over a month ago and he's been staying with me."

 

"He's in the hospital?! What's wrong, what happened?"

 

Misha could hear rustling on the other end that had to be Jared scrambling for clothes and shoes. "He's fine, he just blacked out when he saw your poster. He'd, he'd lost his memories."

 

"He'd what...?" Jared whispered. "Fucking hell."

 

Misha smiled a little. "He's fine now. He just woke up and talked to me. But if you want to head over, I can let the nurse know that you can be let in to see him."

 

"Yes, fuck, please, oh god, what did you say your name was?"

 

"Misha," he repeated and smiled. "He's totally fine, Jared. I've been taking rather good care of him if I do say so myself."

 

"Oh fuck, I can never thank you enough, I thought he was _dead_ ," Jared babbled, getting into his car. "I need to drive to the hospital now, but I'll be there in twenty minutes."

 

"Okay," Misha said, smiling as the call disconnected a second later. He sank down into the small plastic chair. Jensen was sleeping peacefully, his lips parted as he slept. He took a deep breath. This was for the best. Jensen could have everything back, his entire life. There was nothing that he could offer him if he were to stay, and this would be better for all of them.

 

Jared was good on his word and arrived in almost twenty minutes exactly. Misha met him at the entrance and he was surprised to find that Jared almost towered over him. _Tall_. Jesus christ he was tall. He was wrapped up in a tight hug and then Jared was demanding that he be brought to Jensen.

 

Misha led the way to the room and smiled when Jared gasped and rushed over to the bed, hanging on to the edge of it for dear life. "Do you know what happened?"

 

Jared shook his head. "Best guess is he got caught in that storm from a month back. His boat hasn't appeared either, which, he's probably going to be pissed about when he woke up," he said with a weak laugh.

 

Misha smiled and walked over to him, giving a small squeeze to his shoulder. "He's fine though. He's more than fine, he's got his memory back, and he is totally fine."

 

Jared blew out a hard breath. "I thought he was dead, christ," he said, looking over to the bed. "Jensen, if you ever scare me like that again, I am going to kick your ass so fucking hard."

 

Misha wanted to laugh as he watched Jared settle in for a wait. He glanced up at the clock. "I need to go pick up my kids, Jared. Will you let me know if he wakes up again?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Jared said, smiling widely at Misha. "You saved his life, I can't thank you enough."

 

Misha nodded and let himself out of the room. Samantha took one look at him and apparently he had one hell of an expression on his face, because she got out of his way a moment later. Misha drove home, and he knew that he needed to call Charlie and Gilda and get them to drop the kids off.

 

But he wanted a moment, just a moment to himself.

 

He let himself into the house and looked around. Jensen's book was on the table, still dog-eared and waiting for him to pick it up again. His shoes were by the back door and Misha could see the bread that Jensen liked sitting in the bowl next to the bananas that Jensen always got for himself.

 

The tears were threatening, but he forced himself to take a deep breath as he walked out the back door and down the path to the beach. He stopped, just at the edge of the water and sat down in the sand.

 

Misha closed his eyes and dropped his face into his arms. He could still remember their first kiss, that soft press of lips together. He'd known better than to fall in love. He had known so much better than to do it, and yet it had happened anyway. Somewhere between Jensen's laughs, his singing Maison to sleep, and cartwheels with West, he'd fallen so hard for Jensen.

 

Misha tightened his hands in the fabric of his jeans and let the tears come. For a few minutes, he would let himself say goodbye. Just for a few minutes.

 

~!~

 

Jensen didn't wake up that night. At least, that's what Misha assumed when Jared didn't call him and let him know. He explained to West and Maison that Jensen had remembered who he was and that he was going to be going home.

 

West had burst into tears and Maison had pouted at him, big, fat crocodile tears falling from her eyes. Misha had hugged them both tight until they had fallen asleep from exhaustion. "I'm gonna miss him too, angels, I'm gonna miss him too. But we'll be okay, and I bet he'll visit us as often as he can."

 

It was a lie, but it was a lie that he was willing to tell to see their faces light up with hope. Misha kissed both of their foreheads and put them to bed not long after. He went down to his workshop, but all he could remember was the times Jensen had snuck down there to kiss him, or do more than kiss him.

 

Misha turned around and headed back upstairs, but his bedroom was even worse. Memories of Jensen were everywhere. His toothbrush on the counter, his toothpaste, since he didn't like the stuff that Misha used. His running shoes. Misha choked on his next breath and forced himself to breathe.

 

How many times had they shared a shower? How many times had they curled up together in that bed? He looked over at it, and the sheets were still mussed from this morning when they had both rolled out of bed when his alarm had gone off. Misha sucked in a painful breath and walked out of the bedroom.

 

He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch that Jensen liked to curl up in and wrapped it around himself, curling up on the couch. Misha shut his eyes and let the scent wrap around him until he couldn't smell anything else. Jensen was going to come back tomorrow, get his things and leave.

 

That was what would happen and he just needed to be prepared for when it did. It wouldn't be easy, but hopefully Jensen would understand that he needed to make a clean break. Anything else would hurt them both in the long run. This needed to be, it needed to be permanent.

 

Misha fell asleep, curled in the blanket, telling himself that this was going to be for the best. That he would figure something out. Jensen deserved to have his life back, to go back to being an actor, being successful and having his own life. He didn't need to stay on an island with a divorcee and his kids.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOOPS THERE'S THE ANGST


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

Misha woke up when his phone alarm went off, jolting him out of the uncomfortable leaning position he had fallen asleep in. He rubbed at his neck and frowned at it.

 

Getting the kids ready for school felt harder than it had in months. Everywhere he turned, there was one more thing to do that he'd forgotten, because he was so used to Jensen being there to help him.

 

Misha held it together long enough to make it to the school and drop off the kids. They waved goodbye, but even the goodbye felt lackluster. Jensen wasn't sitting in the front like he was supposed to.

 

He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel and tried to breathe. When had Jensen become such a part of their lives? When had that happened?

 

His phone rang and Misha scrambled for it, even as he took the turn to head to the hospital, instead of home. "Hello?"

 

"Hey, Misha, it's Jared. Jensen's signing himself out of the hospital right now. He said that he wanted to stay the night at your place and then we could head back tomorrow," Jared said, glancing at Jensen as he signed the paperwork. "Wanted to make sure you'd be good putting up his mug for another night, I've only got a king in my room."

 

Misha struggled to keep his hands steady. "Yeah. It's fine, he can absolutely stay with me one more night."

 

"Okay, awesome! I'll let him know," Jared said.

 

"Okay," Misha said, his mind swimming. "I'm on my way to the hospital, so I can give him a ride back to my place."

 

"Perfect!" Jared said, grinning wide. "See you in a second Misha!"

 

Misha tossed his phone into the passenger seat and headed for the hospital. Jensen was going to be spending one more night with him. And then everything would be over and they would go on to live their lives and he would be the one left with a broken heart.

 

The hospital rose up in front of him and Misha parked the car, heading for the discharge area. Jared and Jensen were waiting, and Jared grinned at him, bright and wide. Jensen didn't smile at all, and Misha felt his heart drop into his toes. Was Jensen angry with him?

 

"Hey, Misha!" Jared said, immediately wrapping him up in a tight hug. "Thanks, man, I know Jensen hates sleeping in hotels, so he wanted to get one more night at your place."

 

Misha nodded and cleared his throat. "What, what time is your flight tomorrow?"

 

"Two pm!" Jared said, still bouncing on his feet.

 

"Hey, Jare," Jensen said, looking over at his best friend. "I'm still a little worn out, I think I just want to head back to Misha's place and crash, if that's alright with you?"

 

"Of course," Jared said, wrapping Jensen up in a tight hug. "I'll see you tomorrow at the airport."

 

"Yeah," Jensen agreed, his voice quiet as he followed Misha back to his car. He climbed into the front seat and put Misha's phone on the dashboard where it belonged. "You okay, Mish?" he asked.

 

Misha chuckled and looked over at Jensen. "I should be asking that of you, since you're the one who just got all of their memories back. Are you okay?"

 

Jensen hummed and looked out the window. "Yeah. I am. It's strange. I was getting used to the idea of who I was. And now..."

 

"Now?" Misha supplied glancing over at him. "Is there something different between who you used to know and who you are now?"

 

Jensen thought about it as he stared out the window. It had been so much easier to smile before he had known anything. Smiles had been quick to come and took longer to leave. Misha made him laugh, and he never laughed like that with anyone except for Jared.

 

There was a difference in the person that he remembered being and the person that he was here. _Misha_. Misha made all of the difference, and Misha was going to let him go and not even appear to care. Jensen tightened his hand on the door handle and struggled to breathe. "Yeah. There's some stuff that's definitely different," he managed, watching as Misha took the turn towards his house, glad that they were almost there.

 

"Like what?" Misha asked, parking the car a moment later.

 

How he had let himself fall in love with Misha so easily? How he'd fallen not only for Misha, but for his kids, the lifestyle they had here, how much he'd wanted all of this when it was so different from everything else he'd ever known. Like running and getting up early, things that he didn't like doing at all, but had somehow gotten into the habit of doing here.

 

Jensen shook his head and climbed out of the car. "Doesn't matter. It's all small stuff."

 

"You know," Misha started, watching Jensen head towards the house. "You don't need anything here. If you wanted to fly out tonight with Jared, you could."

 

Jensen stared at Misha and his heart dropped into his stomach. He didn't need anything here? That was the opposite of the truth. He strode towards Misha and cupped his face in his hands, pulling him in for a slow kiss. He kissed Misha until he couldn't breathe anymore and they were both a little desperate.

 

"Jen, the kids are gonna be home soon," Misha said, clearing his throat.

 

Jensen nodded and took a deep breath, pressing his face to Misha's neck. He wrapped his arms tight around Misha and pulled him in and against his chest. "Yeah," he agreed. "Tonight?"

 

Misha looked up at the sky and prayed that he was going to be strong enough for this. He pressed his face to Jensen's hair and hummed in agreement. "Tonight," he whispered.

 

Jensen let go of him a moment later and headed up to the house, and Misha nearly fell back against the car. He wasn't entirely sure that he was going to survive tonight. The kids would be happy to see him at least.

 

~!~

 

Misha watched Jensen hold on tighter to West and Maison, promising to visit, that he would see them again soon. After Jensen had left he would call him and ask that he didn't say that the next time he did visit, because that would make it so much harder for the kids to let him go.

 

After he left, because he would never be able to muster up the courage to say that to Jensen's face. Misha took a deep breath and joined them in the hug that Jensen had them all wrapped up in. "Don't worry. No goodbye is forever, we'll see Jensen again soon."

 

Jensen was staring at him, he could feel it, but Misha focused on Maison and West and smiled at the both of them, kissing their foreheads. "You know what we need to do?" he asked them, grinning a little wider. "I think we need to have a party to celebrate Jensen getting his memories back."

 

Maison and West looked up at him with wide eyes and Misha knew that he needed to do this. For the kids. He needed to do it. "Come on, I'll bake a cake, you guys can decorate. West, get your homework done and then you can have as much tv time as you want."

 

The kids cheered and immediately went racing for the decorations that he kept in one of the lower cabinets. Misha didn't look at Jensen to see what he thought, he just hoped that the man wouldn't mind too much.

 

"Are you going to look at me?" Jensen asked, reaching out to touch Misha. "A party, really?"

 

Misha cleared his throat and watched West pull out the streamers. "It'll wear them out," he explained and he shivered at the way Jensen's eyes darkened and stared at him.

 

Jensen hummed and leaned in to press a kiss to Misha's neck. "Then you'd better get baking. I'll make dinner and help them decorate."

 

Misha clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to focus on the cake that he was going to make for Jensen.

 

~!~

 

Misha carried West to bed and wiped away the last of the frosting from his mouth, smiling at him a little bit more as he tucked him in. Jensen was taking care of Maison, getting her settled. He checked on her, just as Jensen stood up and walked towards him.

 

"Mish-"

 

"We should finish cleaning up," Misha said, heading towards the kitchen to wipe up the last of the frosting and take down the streamers, rolling them up carefully so they could use them again.

 

Jensen didn't say anything for a long, long moment. But Misha watched him start cleaning the counter again, making sure it was spotless. Misha took a slow, shaky breath and focused on finishing the kitchen. They were almost done.

 

They finished in no time and Misha didn't have any words left. He took Jensen's hand and led him to the bedroom and started to unbutton his shirt. Jensen's hands stopped him and his breath caught.

 

"Let me," Jensen whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to Misha's forehead. If this was going to be good bye, then he was going to savor it.

 

"Okay," Misha whispered back, taking his hands away from the shirt.

 

Jensen gave Misha's hands a slow squeeze and lifted them to his lips, kissing Misha's fingertips before he let his hands drop. He focused on Misha's lips again. "Slow," he whispered. He had to savor this, because he would never have it again.

 

Misha took a deep, shaky breath and stared at Jensen. "Wasn't aware that you were desperate enough for fast."

 

Jensen huffed a laugh against his neck and Misha shuddered, tilting his head back for Jensen. He tangled his fingers in Jensen's belt loops, pulling him in closer.

 

He was going to miss Misha, like air, when the time came to leave him in the morning. But there was a lot of time between now and the morning, plenty of time for him to focus on taking Misha apart at the seams. "Please, Mish?"

 

Misha took a deep breath and tried to stare at Jensen, tried to remind himself that Jensen would be gone tomorrow, and that he wasn't going to wake up to Jensen beside him for the rest of his life. Like he maybe wanted to. "Yeah," he whispered back.

 

Jensen surged up and kissed Misha, cupping his face in his hands, pulling him in closer. He trailed his fingers along the stubble on Misha's cheeks and kissed him until his lips felt numb and Misha was all there was in front of him.

 

He reached up and carefully undid the button on Misha's shirt, pulling it apart, taking his time undoing every button. Jensen let Misha's shirt fall open and trailed his fingers along the waistband of Misha's jeans, but he didn't try to go further. Not yet. He took a slow, deep breath and sank to his knees, pressing slow, soft kisses to the line of Misha's hip bone. "I don't think I ever told you how beautiful you are, did I?" Jensen whispered.

 

Misha trembled and reached out, tangling his fingers in Jensen's hair. "Jen..."

 

"I could worship you for hours, Mish. Every single muscle in your body, every piece of skin, I want to know it," Jensen whispered, pressing another kiss under Misha's belly button, sucking a mark into the skin there. Misha gasped and his hips bucked, but Jensen focused on the taste of Misha's skin.    

 

"Jensen, please," Misha whispered, clenching his eyes shut. He wasn't sure that he could take this. Jensen would take a piece of him away from him forever. "Touch me."

 

"I am," Jensen whispered, smiling against Misha's skin. "You're damn gorgeous, Mish. Where do you want me to touch you?"

 

Misha swallowed hard, raising his eyes to the ceiling. He knew what he wanted the moment Jensen had asked. "Everywhere."

 

"Everywhere," Jensen repeated, slowly climbing to his feet. "I think I can give 'everywhere' my best possible shot. You know how good my aim is, after all."

 

Misha managed a croak that sounded a little bit like a laugh, so he counted it as progress. "I do indeed. Are you going to also get yourself naked so I don't feel lonely?"

 

Jensen wanted to protest that he already felt lonely, knowing that he was going to walk away from Misha tomorrow, but that wasn't appropriate. "I suppose I could lose a few pieces of clothing," he said, unbuckling his belt, then freezing when Misha's hands stopped him from going further.

 

"Nah, my turn," Misha said, unbuttoning Jensen's jeans, taking the chance to rub and tease at the erection that he could feel. Jensen gave a groan and he smirked, looking up at him. “See? Definitely my turn.”

 

"I wasn't this mean to you," Jensen gasped, rocking his hips forward as Misha unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped them, but not removing them.

 

"No," Misha agreed, smirking up at Jensen. "You missed your first opportunity, without a doubt."

 

Jensen shuddered as Misha's hand closed around his erection and gave him a slow, deliberate squeeze. "Fuck, Mish..."

 

"Your cock is just as beautiful as the rest of you," Misha said, licking his lips as he stared at Jensen, leaning in to lick and suck at the tendons in his neck. "It's rather unfair to the rest of us humans. I mean, how am I supposed to compete."

 

The sound that escaped him was half laugh, half sob. Jensen wrapped his arms around Misha and yanked him in for a kiss, determined to shut him up for at least a little bit. "Yours is gorgeous too," he whispered against Misha's lips. He pushed Misha's shirt off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. "Everything about you is gorgeous."

 

Misha laughed and let his head fall back as Jensen kissed down his neck. "Now you're just trying to make me blush," he teased, spreading his legs a little so Jensen could get closer. "Fuck, but we should move to the bed before the kids wake up."

 

It was a good point, but Jensen just wanted to wrap Misha up in his arms and kiss him forever. "Guess that you had better finish stripping me then," he whispered, kissing Misha again, soft and gentle this time.

 

Misha's hands were immediately at his shirt, tugging it open, seconds later. Jensen laughed a little and helped him strip it off and groaned when Misha attacked his jeans and boxers next, yanking them off as well.

 

Jensen shivered when Misha stepped back and _stared_ at him, his eyes intent. He swallowed and nodded to the pants that were falling off Misha's hips. "Those next," he ordered. Misha's erection was tenting the front of his boxers and Jensen felt his mouth water with the desire to _taste_.

 

Misha tucked his thumbs into the waist of his pants and tugged them down and over his hips.

 

Jensen grinned at the sight of their clothes on the floor. "What was that you would always say about cleaning up your messes?"

 

Misha growled and grabbed Jensen's hips, tossing him onto the bed. "Maybe I'll make a mess of you and you can see just how good I am at cleaning you up."

 

Jensen swallowed hard and stared up at Misha as he climbed onto the bed, shivering at the intent look in Misha's eyes. Sadness and the fear that he would never get to see this again washed over him. This would be the last time he got to tease Misha in bed. "Kiss me first?" he whispered, his voice hoarse.

 

"Always," Misha whispered, stretching out and over Jensen's body, leaning in to kiss him. Jensen's lips were soft and wet, intoxicating and gentle. He melted into Jensen, kissing him until they were both breathing hard, their dicks grinding together in slow, torturous movements.

 

"Mish," Jensen moaned, reaching out to grab his hips, pulling him closer, leaning in for another kiss. "Please..."

 

His heart jumped into his throat as Jensen kissed him. His mind invented a thousand different ways for that plea to end. They didn't matter. Jensen would be gone the following day. But for now? For now, he had Jensen. Misha took a deep breath and tried to decide exactly what he was going to do to Jensen. “Tell me what you want?”

 

“You,” Jensen answered before he thought better of it. Even though it was the truth. All he wanted was Misha. All he wanted, all he needed.

 

Misha hummed in consideration, leaning down to kiss Jensen on the neck. “Well, I suppose we can do that in the literal sense. We haven’t tried that yet, have we?”

 

Jensen blinked and he groaned when he realized what Misha was referring to. That? That was what they were going to do on their last night together? He grabbed Misha’s hips and yanked him down and into another kiss. “If you’re sure.”

 

“Yeah,” Misha breathed against Jensen’s lips. He wanted this to remember Jensen by, since he wasn’t going to have anything else. “Please.”

 

Jensen nodded and kissed Misha again, harder and more desperate. This couldn’t be the last time that he got to touch Misha, but it was going to be. And that thought hurt so much more than it ever should. He rolled them over and pushed Misha back into the bedsheets, watching as he stretched. Misha was everything he had ever wanted, and never known that he needed. Misha and his family.

 

The lubricant was in the bedside table drawer, and he could remember thinking a few days ago that they would need to get more soon. That wouldn’t need to happen now, and sorrow hit him, deep in his gut at the realization. He wasn’t going to need any of it.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *whispers* God I'm so mean...


	12. Chapter 12

 

Misha spread his legs and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.  “Just do me a favor and go slow.  I’m a little rusty at this.” 

 

“No problem, Mish,” Jensen said, turning back to Misha as he spread his legs, showing off just how flexible he was.  “You and your yoga,” he added, raising an eyebrow. 

 

“Don’t knock it!” Misha protested, shivering as Jensen settled between his legs.  Jensen looked so serious and sad, and his heart gave an uncomfortable lurch.  “Hey,” he said, leaning up to kiss Jensen again, soft and intent.  “Stop it with the kicked puppy dog eyes.  I promise I’m not nearly as out of practice as I’m joking about being.” 

 

Jensen smiled against Misha’s lips and nodded.  “All right.  I’m sorry.  I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Misha waved a hand.  “So don’t.  You know what you’re doing.  Just do whatever felt good that I did to you.” 

 

“So, everything?” Jensen quipped, winking at Misha.  Misha laughed, his body stretching again as he did. 

 

‘While I am extraordinarily flattered that ‘everything’ is what you liked, I might want you to be a little bit more specific, Jen,” Misha teased. 

 

“Okay,” Jensen whispered.  He wished that they had time for everything.  That he could spend days, weeks, making Misha feel as good as he had.  Misha deserved nothing less.  He deserved everything.  Absolutely everything. 

 

Jensen traced his fingertips down Misha’s stubble, smiling at it.  “I love that you hate shaving as much as I do.  I think it might be one of my favorite things about you.” 

 

Misha laughed and tilted his neck back, shivering when Jensen replaced the fingertip with his mouth, kissing down his neck.  “So you love that I’m a lazy bastard who can’t be bothered to shave because he has two kids?” 

 

“Yes,” Jensen said immediately, He did love that about Misha.  That he managed to do everything that he did and be as incredible as he was.  He looked up into surprised blue eyes and managed another smile at him.  “But even still.  I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tell you how incredible you are.” 

 

Misha gasped as Jensen kept kissing lower, teasing at his collarbone with his tongue.  They should have done this weeks ago, he was an idiot.  “Jen, a man could die waiting, here, come on, get a move on.” 

 

Jensen chuckled and pressed another kiss to Misha’s pectoral muscle, shifting so he could tease a nipple with his tongue.  “How many times did you ignore me when I asked you to go faster?  How many times did you tell me to be _patient_?” 

 

“More than I want to remember,” Misha grumbled.  “But I suppose you’re going to make me pay for all of those right now?” 

 

“Yes,” Jensen said, unable to keep from grinning a little at Misha.  “Well, most of them, anyways.”

 

Misha groaned and shuddered as Jensen gave a much harder suck to his nipple.  “You sure there isn’t anything I could do to convince you to speed up?” 

 

Jensen hummed and shifted so he could give the other nipple the same attention.  “Very unlikely.” 

 

Misha shivered and squirmed when Jensen made his way lower, nipping and sucking at his skin.  Never hard enough to leave a mark, but more than enough so that he was an absolute incoherent mess.  “Jensen, please…” 

 

His mind immediately added a word to Misha’s plea.  Misha wasn’t asking him to stay though.  As much as he wanted to hear that, that wasn’t what Misha was saying.  Jensen teased his tongue into Misha’s belly button and closed his eyes.  He would at least have this, and this would have to be enough.  For the both of them.

 

“Jen, fuck,” Misha swore, rocking his hips up, desperate for any sort of friction that he could tease Jensen into giving him.  “ _Please_.” 

 

“I promised to take my time,” Jensen said, grinning as he sucked hard at the soft skin below Misha’s belly button, biting down just hard enough to leave a purpling mark. 

 

“Tease!” Misha growled, bucking his hips up. 

 

“Yes,” Jensen agreed, wrapping his hands around Misha’s hips to give them a gentle squeeze.  “I’ve earned that name, without a doubt.  But like all good and proper teases, I put out.”

 

He pressed a kiss to the tip of Misha’s cock, sucking it between his lips as he bobbed his head.  Misha groaned, long and low, like he always tended to when he did things like this.  He was beautiful.  Every single piece of him was beautiful. 

 

Jensen poured some of the lubricant into his palm and over his fingers, shifting so he could press a finger slowly into Misha, watching as he gasped and arched underneath him.  He took a deep breath and focused on Misha underneath him.  “You okay?” He asked, his voice rough. 

 

Misha swallowed and nodded, focusing on the feel of Jensen’s finger inside of him, not the fact that he would only get one chance to memorize what this felt like.  “Yeah.  Just.  Slow, right?” 

 

“Slow,” Jensen promised, licking a stripe up Misha’s cock from the base to the tip.  Misha groaned for him again and relaxed around his finger, allowing him to move it in and out, teasing him slowly.  He glanced up and saw that Misha’s face was still screwed up in concentration and stilled his finger.  “Remember the first time you did this to me?” 

 

Misha opened his eyes and glared at Jensen.  “What kind of question is that?  Of course I do!” 

 

Jensen smiled at Misha and pushed his finger a little deeper, wrapping his free hand around Misha’s erection, giving it a slow pull.  “Do you remember what you said to me?” 

 

Misha opened his mouth and scowled.  “I might not remember... _precisely_ what was said.  I was a bit distracted at the time.” 

 

“That’s true,” Jensen agreed, working his finger slowly in and out of Misha.  “You told me that I looked born to take your fingers like I was.  That my whole body was made for it.” 

 

“It is!” Misha protested, gasping as Jensen’s finger sank in past the second knuckle.  

 

Jensen stared at Misha and smiled when he relaxed.  He wanted to say that he was pretty sure that he had been made for Misha, and that maybe, maybe the reverse was true too.  “Maybe,” he allowed.  “I think it meant more to me, because you meant it in that moment.” 

 

“I always meant things like that,” Misha said, his voice quiet as he stared up at Jensen.  He shuddered as Jensen pressed his finger in and out, easy as you please, now.  “I can take another, come on, Jen.” 

 

Jensen nodded, his mouth dry as he tried to swallow.  He poured more lubricant onto his hand and started to press in a second finger, achingly slow as he stared up at Misha.  “I wish I had words for all of the colors that your eyes turn, Mish.  So many colors, I wish that I could name a fraction of them!” 

 

Misha laughed.  “My eyes aren’t a kaleidoscope, Jen.” 

 

He smiled when Misha relaxed the rest of the way, letting him press his fingers in further.  “No, they aren’t.  But they are every shade of blue imaginable, and then some more that I’m pretty sure didn’t exist before you.” 

 

“That is…” Misha whined and arched as Jensen curled his fingers, brushing up and against his prostate.  “Without a doubt the sappiest thing anyone has ever said to me.” 

 

Jensen smiled again and kept up the slow motions of his hand, working Misha open, getting ready for him.  He had a feeling he wasn’t the type of person who said sappy things very often, but Misha made him want to.  “Well, then I’m glad that I’m the one that said it,” he shot back. 

 

Misha relaxed into the slow rhythm of Jensen’s fingers pressing in and out of him.  Another small gasp escaped him and he bit down on his lip, clenching his eyes shut.  He would not cry.  He absolutely would not cry, no matter how gentle and perfect Jensen was being. 

 

Jensen froze when he realized that Misha had his eyes shut.  “Misha? You okay?  I can stop if you want me to.”

 

Misha opened his eyes immediately and laughed.  “Don’t you dare stop, on pain of death!” 

 

Jensen smiled and leaned down to press a kiss to Misha’s knee, teasing him with a third finger.  “You were the one looking all stressed there.  You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Misha managed, groaning, spreading his legs a little wider.  “Told you, it’s just been a while, go ahead.  I’m good.” 

 

Jensen groaned as he sank a third finger into Misha, this one going a lot easier than the other two, and Misha was still smiling up at him.  He bit down the ‘I love you’ that wanted to burst out of him.  “Almost there,” he promised, giving Misha’s cock another slow stroke, just to see him arch and groan. 

 

“Good thing, a fella could wait forever here, jesus!” Misha growled, rocking his hips back down and onto Jensen’s fingers.  “Come on Jen!” 

 

Jensen added just a little bit more lubricant and kept stretching Misha, teasing his fingers over his prostate.  “Don’t worry, Mish, I’ll give you everything you want, promise,” he whispered, teasing his fingers even deeper. 

 

“You’d better, after all of this teasing,” Misha grumbled, shivering as Jensen pulled his fingers out, making him squirm. 

 

Jensen grabbed a condom from the bedside table and tore the package open, rolling it down his cock, before adding more lube to his hand, stroking himself slowly.  He looked down at Misha, at the picture of him spread out on the bed and swallowed hard.  “You good, Mish?” 

 

“Yeah, Jen,” Misha said, reaching out for him.  “Come on.  Just go slow.  It’ll be fine.” 

 

Jensen leaned down to kiss Misha, sucking at his lower lip until Misha was groaning for him and got himself positioned before he started to slide in.  He was careful, stopping whenever Misha would tense up, until he was relaxed and nodding again.  It took him a couple of minutes to be fully seated in Misha, and then he was struggling for control. 

 

Misha managed a laugh and looked up at Jensen.  “Hey, relax, you’re not the one with a dick up your ass!” 

 

Jensen groaned and opened his eyes, staring down at Misha.  “You’re right, I’m not, but fuck, Mish.  You feel so good.  Hot and tight, and fuck,” he swore, leaning down to kiss Misha again. 

 

“You aren’t allowed,” Misha gasped, rocking his hips down, letting Jensen slide just a little deeper.  “To ever make fun of me again.” 

 

The reminder was ice, sliding down his back.  The reminder that he wouldn’t get a chance to tease Misha again, because he was leaving tomorrow.  He wasn’t going to ever get to see this again.  He stretched and kissed Misha, pulling out, then sliding into him again in a slow, steady motion. 

 

Misha’s arms came around his shoulders and held on tight as they kissed and Jensen started a careful rhythm.  “Gonna make you feel perfect, Mish.” 

 

Misha bit down on his lip to say that he already did.  That he rather wanted to stay and have Jensen make him feel perfect for as long as he could stand it.  But it wasn’t meant to be.  He took a deep breath, forced a grin on his face and spread his legs a little wider.  “Then get going already, I’m not going to break, Jen!” 

 

Jensen wrapped his hands around Misha’s hips and pulled out slowly, then pushed into him, nice and hard.  “If that’s what you want, all right then!” he said, smirking down at Misha as he repeated it, the sound of their skin slapping together making him shiver. 

 

“Fuck,” Misha swore, his body shaking as Jensen pulled out and then shoved back into him.  Jensen kissed him before he could say anything else and Misha dug his fingers into Jensen’s back, holding onto him as tightly as he could.  This was going to be the last memory that he had of Jensen other than whatever happened tomorrow. 

 

Jensen grinned down at Misha as he rocked into him, hard and steady, watching his body shake with everything thrust.  “Good?” he asked against Misha’s lips, kissing him again. 

 

“Yes, yes, Jen, more, please,” Misha demanded, tightening his legs around Jensen’s hips, pulling him in closer. 

 

“You got it,” Jensen growled, slamming into Misha again, making his whole body shake. 

 

There weren’t anymore words they could say.  Neither of them were going to last long now.  Jensen leaned down and kissed Misha, groaning as Misha twisted under him and then cried out.  He licked his way up Misha’s neck, sucking at the skin there, resisting the urge to leave marks, more ways for Misha to remember him. 

 

“Jensen,” Misha cried out, his back arching as Jensen slammed into him over and over again, leaving him shaking.  He wrapped a hand around his erection, because he knew that he wasn’t going to last long, and he whined when Jensen knocked it away.  “Jen, please…” 

 

Jensen smiled against Misha’s lips and gave him a soft, gentle kiss.  “I’ll take care of you.  I promise.”  He squeezed Misha’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss before he replaced Misha’s hand with his own, stroking him hard and fast.  “Gonna take such good care of you, Misha.” 

 

He kissed Misha again, preventing the rest of the words that wanted to tumble out of him.  He wanted to make this last forever.  But it wasn’t going to, no matter how much he wanted it.  Misha was still clinging to him, and Jensen kissed him until both of their lips were sore.  But he could already feel how close they both were to the edge.  “Mish, fuck, I’m not gonna…” 

 

“It’s okay,” Misha whispered against Jensen’s lips.  “Let me feel you, come on.” 

 

Jensen bit down on Misha’s lip, swallowing his groan as his hips stuttered and he lost any sense of control.  A small cry of Misha’s name left him and it was swallowed by their next kiss.  He tightened his hands on Misha’s hips and pulled him in close, his orgasm wringing him out until he was left with nothing but the sight of Misha underneath him, losing it only seconds later. 

 

Misha had never seen anything as beautiful as Jensen losing control.  Absolutely nothing.  He came only seconds later and wrapped his arms as tightly around Jensen as he could, keeping their lips sealed together. 

 

Jensen didn’t want to move.  But reality was licking at the edges of their moments together and he reluctantly pulled away, giving Misha a soft kiss.  He padded to the bathroom and got them both cleaned up before he climbed back into bed.  Misha stared at him and Jensen swallowed hard, wrapping his arms around Misha. 

 

Misha didn’t say anything.  Jensen didn’t either.  He just held on as tight as he could, his face pressed into Misha’s hair.  This was goodbye. 

 

~!~

 

Jensen did his absolute best not to focus on Misha during the drive to the airport.  If he did, he would beg to stay, for Misha to let him stay, and he was better than that.  If Misha didn't want him to stay, then he wouldn't.  He could have asked at any point, but he hadn't, which meant that Misha was probably glad to get rid of him.  Jensen took a deep breath. 

 

"Hey," Misha said, looking over at him as they pulled into the parking lot.  "It's gonna be fine." 

 

Jensen nodded and climbed out of the car, heading for the small bag that he had packed that was in the back seat.  He took it and slung it over his shoulder.  He'd already nearly cried once saying goodbye to Maison and West this morning, and if Misha would let him, he would absolutely make good on his promise and come visit them, and soon.

 

He followed Misha into the airport and picked up his ticket and then walked side-by-side with Misha towards the security desk.  Jared was already waiting, and the airport was small enough that Jensen could imagine they were probably sitting side by side on the plane. 

 

He took a deep breath.  Maybe he could ask now, and Misha would change his mind and ask him to stay.  "Misha-"

 

Misha pressed his finger to Jensen's lips and shook his head.  "Not to quote a movie, but, I'm not going to say goodbye," he whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Jensen's cheek.  "I'm going to say good luck." 

 

Jensen's mouth was dry and he knew there were tears in his eyes.  Misha stepped back from him and he forced a smile onto his face.  "Thanks, Mish," he whispered back and turned towards the security line.  He slipped into it and didn't turn around until he was through the first checkpoint. 

 

When he looked back, Misha wasn't there.  Because of course he wasn't.  Misha didn't want him there, had probably wanted him gone for a long time now.  And last night... 

 

Jensen blinked hard and forced himself to breathe as he walked up to the customs officer and handed over his passport (which Jared had given him), and smiled as he was let through.  He was going back to his old life.  Everything that had gotten him through life until now would be waiting for him. 

 

Jared was waiting for him and waved at him with a big grin.  Jensen walked over to where he was waiting in the boarding area and settled into the seat next to him, closing his eyes.  Apparently he was normally quiet and brooding, because Jared didn't bother him until it was time for the flight to board. 

 

Jensen looked at the clock and smiled, because Misha would be going to pick up the kids right about now.  They'd miss them, hell, he was going to miss them so much.  But it would be good to see Tom and Shep.  He'd missed them too, even if he didn't know it.  And Texas, he'd missed Texas. 

 

"Ready?" Jared asked, grinning at him, bright and wide as they boarded the plane. 

 

Jensen nodded.  "Yeah, definitely ready." 

 

As they took off from Vancouver Island, he couldn't help thinking that he was leaving his heart behind with the man who had built his own home there.  Jensen closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep, because the only other option was to miss Misha like a physical ache the entire flight to Texas. 

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Misha made it back to the house and sat down on the couch in front of the television.  ' _Thanks, Mish_ ,' was still echoing in his mind.  Those were Jensen's last words to him and they hurt, they hurt so damn bad.  But he'd deserved that.  After being cold to Jensen all morning, trying to get himself ready for the reality of Jensen leaving, he'd deserved those to be his last words. 

 

He'd already cried all of the tears that he needed to over Jensen.  None of them were going to bring him back.  Misha told himself that he needed to remember that.  He'd learned that the hard way once  No matter how many tears you cried, life went on and you learned to live without that other person. 

 

He had a feeling that it was going to be much harder to get over Jensen than it had been to get over...

 

Misha shook his head and stood up.  "I have work to do, and I am going to go and get it done," he announced to himself, heading down to the workshop.  Since it was the middle of the afternoon and he had an hour and a half before he had to pick the kids up, he turned on his music and cranked it up as loud as it would go. 

 

It wasn't enough to drown out all of his thoughts, or all of the memories of when Jensen snuck down into the workshop, but he dealt with it, focusing on the project in front of him.  That was all he could do.  He had to put one foot in front of the other and keep moving.  Keep moving, because Maison and West needed him to do that, and they were the only thing that mattered.

 

He could worry about his broken heart another day. 

 

~!~

 

Jensen smiled and tossed Shep up and into the air, catching him as he came back down, dunking him halfway into the water before he tossed him again. 

 

Shep laughed wildly and splashed at him as his arm floaties kept him easily above the water. 

 

"Me next, me next, Uncle Jensen!" Tom called, swimming over to him. 

 

"You got it!" Jensen said, repeating the exact motion with Tom and tossing him over near his brother, grinning when they started to splash each other. 

 

Gen was out a moment later, offering him a beer and Jensen shook his head, climbing out of the pool, walking over to the chairs and his towl.  He'd spent more time at Jared and Gen's house in the past two weeks than at his own, and he could tell that Jared wanted to ask him what was wrong.  

 

Jensen glanced at both of the boys in the pool and he couldn't help thinking of West and Maison and... 

 

He shook his head and took a deep breath, toweling himself off before he made his way over to where Jared was flipping the burgers on the grill.  "Hey, do you need help with anything?" 

 

"Nah, I'm good Jen!" Jared called, taking another sip of his beer as he grinned.  "Kids okay?" 

 

"Yeah," Jensen said, sitting down in one of the lawn chairs.  "Gen's with them now." 

 

Jared hummed, focusing on the food for a few seconds before he looked over at Jensen.  He reached out and gave him a poke with his foot, smiling when he got a scowl in return. 

 

"What?" Jensen said, toweling off his hair a little more properly. 

 

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?  You've been prickly, even for you, ever since you got back," Jared said, closing the lid on the food for a second, turning his attention to Jensen.

 

Jensen sighed and pushed his fingers through his hair.  "Nothing is wrong-"

 

"Bullshit," Jared said, raising an eyebrow at him.  "Man, you know you're welcome at my house any time, but you have been over here a lot, even for you.  Now, what the hell is going on with you?" 

 

Jensen swallowed.  "My house is quiet.  A little too quiet.  Here, there's always some sort of noise." 

 

Jared snickered and rolled his eyes.  "Yeah, well, kids tend to do that, that's how they work.  That still doesn't explain why you have been your version of the kicked puppy dog ever since you got back." 

 

Jensen rubbing his leg nervously and looked up at the sky, avoiding Jared's eyes.  "Losing your memory is weird.  I feel like there's two separate people in my head, Jay," he said, leaning back in the beach chair. 

 

"Right," Jared said, crouching down next to Jensen.  "Is that what has you tied up in so many knots?  You acted differently when you didn't know who you were?" 

 

"Yeah," Jensen said, shifting to sit up properly instead of reclining. "It's weird.  I feel like I don't know what was real.  Was I real when I was like that?" 

 

"Well," Jared said, rubbing his hand through his hair.  "I'd say so.  You're still Jensen, even if you didn't know your past or anything else.  I think you just found it easier to have no filter." 

 

Jensen frowned and looked at him.  "What do you mean?" 

 

"You can't tell I think, but with me, and here with the kids, you're completely different than you are when you're working.  I have a feeling that whatever happened to you probably caused the same thing, but only about a hundred times worse when you lost your memory," Jared said. 

 

Jensen opened his mouth and then snapped it shut, because that made a hell of a lot more sense than he was willing to own up to at the moment.  "I guess, yeah." 

 

"Right," Jared said, nodding at him.  "That and I think there's something else you aren't telling me about what happened." 

 

Jensen's mouth went dry and he swallowed hard.  "I, Jay, what do you know about, uh..." he rubbed at his arm nervously.  He didn't know if the memories were missing still, but he could have sworn that on at least one drunken night he had told Jared that he was bi. 

 

"Jen," Jared said, sitting down on the lounger next to him.  "Just spit it out, I'm not going to care." 

 

"I'm bi," Jensen said, staring at Jared.  He relaxed a little when he got nothing more than a raised eyebrow. 

 

Jared nodded.  "Okay, I knew that, but I'm guessing you're going somewhere with that?" 

 

"Yeah," he managed and looked at his friend, his best friend in the whole world.  Jensen leaned in and pressed his forehead to Jared's shoulder, soaking up the comfort and warmth that was there.  "I fell in love with him, Jay." 

 

"Him being..." Jared asked. 

 

Jensen reached out and hit him on the arm.  "Don't be stupid, you know exactly who I'm talking about." 

 

Jared laughed and reached out to ruffle Jensen's hair.  "Okay, so you fell in love with the guy who rescued you, which is the most cliche shit ever by the way.  And?" 

 

Jensen pulled back and stared at Jared.  "And, he didn't ask me to stay, so I'm here." 

 

"You're here, and I'm guessing you're missing him so much it hurts, and waking up alone in your house just makes it worse?" Jared guessed, several more pieces falling into place as he stared at Jensen. 

 

"Yeah," Jensen said.  "Fuck, I miss him so much.  Him, the kids, just, the routine that we fell into.  Don't get me wrong, I love acting, but that, that was the perfect kind of getaway from acting." 

 

"I can see that," Jared said, grinning a little bit as he looked over his shoulder at the boys still splashing in the pool.  "Have lived it, even." 

 

"But he didn't want me to stay," Jensen said, and he hated the way that his voice broke, just a little, because the pain was still fresh.  It had been a few weeks, but it still hurt as though he had walked away from Misha yesterday. 

 

Jared hummed and went back over to the food, piling it onto the plate next to the grill.  "Did you tell him that you wanted to stay?"

 

Jensen shook his head.  "He did, he made it clear at the end, that he didn't-"

 

"Did he feel the same way as you did?" Jared asked instead.  "I mean it, Jen, don't laugh.  Did he feel the same?" 

 

Jensen opened his mouth to answer and gave a sad smile.  "We never ended up talking about it, but I'd like to think that he did.  That he was right there with me every single step of the way.  But then-" 

 

"Jen," Jared groaned.  "You fucking _idiot_ , why did you get on that plane with me?" 

 

Jensen blinked and stared at Jared.  "What?" 

 

Jared laughed and knelt down next to him.  "Okay, I'm going to assume you're a little new to this stupid in love thing.  You miss him like you miss a part of your soul and every second you are away from him hurts, right?" 

 

"Yes?" Jensen agreed, staring at Jared with wide eyes. 

 

"Right.  So get a fucking clue, go to the airport and buy a plane ticket to Victoria," Jared said. 

 

Jensen stared at Jared.  "But what-" 

 

"It doesn't matter," Jared interrupted.  "It doesn't matter how things end up, Jen.  Obviously I want them to go well, and I'm sure he'll welcome you with open arms, but at least you'll know and you'll know for sure." 

 

Jensen swallowed and stared down at the concrete beneath his feet.  He was already itching to move, to do exactly what Jared had suggested.  "Jared..." 

 

"Jensen Ross Ackles," Jared said sternly, pointing the spatula at him.  "Get your ass up, go to your house, change and get to the damn airport.  Text me your flight info and when you land safe.  I'll hear from you a bit after that, I'm sure." 

 

Jensen stood up and reached out, wrapping his arms around Jared in a tight hug.  He was right.  He needed to stop running away from this, from Misha.  He at least needed an answer.  Either Misha wanted him or not, and now he would be able to know.  For sure. 

 

Changing and packing took no time at all.  Jensen called the airport, and there was a flight leaving in a matter of minutes that he could make if he rushed.  He did.  In no time at all, he was sitting on the plane, texting Jared his flight details before he was told to turn off his phone. 

 

The entire flight, he failed at sleeping, because he couldn't stop thinking about Misha, about the fact that he was going to see him again, see the kids again.  Jensen grinned, settling back into the seat, imagining kissing the surprised look off Misha's face.  Telling him that he loved him, that he was going to stay, except for small stints away while he was filming. 

 

When the second flight, the one that would get him into Victoria, landed, Jensen was running as he left the plane, heading for the car rentals.  He got signed up for one and then laughed as he got into the car, one that was almost identical to Misha's before he headed for Misha's house. 

 

The winding road towards the house felt like home and he gunned it, taking it faster than he ever should have, but Misha was so close, so close right now.  Jensen parked in the driveway and blinked in surprise when he didn't see the car.  He checked his watch.  Misha should have absolutely been home with the kids, just about to have dinner. 

 

Maybe he'd taken them out for dinner.  That would make sense.  He took a deep breath and settled into the car to wait.  They'd be home soon enough, he could figure things out with Misha and then move on. 

 

Except Misha never came home.  Over two hours later, Jensen got up the courage to knock on the door, but there was no one home.  The house was locked up tight, all of the lights turned off.  Jensen debated checking to see if Misha had left the door to the patio open, but he didn't want to look like he was breaking into the house. 

 

He went back to the car and thought, his hands tight on the wheel.  Misha was gone, Misha and the kids were gone, and he had no idea where they could have disappeared to.  Jensen forced himself to focus and drove to the hospital, fearing the worst.  Thankfully, Samantha was there, though her eyes went wide at the sight of him. 

 

"Jensen!"

 

Jensen gave her a small smile as she came around the counter to talk to him.  "Hi, Sam, I'm sorry, but he's not, he's not here, is he?"

 

Samantha knew what he meant in a moment and shook her head.  "No, no, we don't know where he went.  He, he locked the place up a few days ago and said that he was taking the kids on a trip for Spring Break." 

 

Jensen deflated and sank into one of the plastic seats in the waiting room.  Of course Misha wasn't here.  Of course he wasn't.  Because fate wanted to get in the way of them all over again.  "Okay, Sam.  If, if you see him when he gets back, can you..." 

 

Jensen cleared his throat and focused on her.  "Can you let him know I was here?  For him?  Please?" 

 

Samantha nodded and reached out to squeeze his arm.  "I will the second I see him, I promise you that.  I know he's missed you." 

 

Jensen clenched his eyes shut and knew he wasn't hiding exactly how much that knowledge hurt.  Misha had missed him, but Misha was gone.  The same routine for weeks and the one night that he needed Misha to be here, of course he wasn't. 

 

"Spring break is only for a week, Jensen.  He'll be back.  It's not like he's gone forever," she said, patting his arm.  "Come back on Monday.  He'll be here." 

 

Jensen blew out a breath and nodded, heading back out to the car.  He couldn't stay here.  He'd go stir crazy.  He called the airport again and booked himself a flight back to Texas.  It was the last flight of the afternoon. 

 

The entire flight was a blank slate.  Jensen didn't bother trying to think.  Everything hurt a little bit too much.  He'd book the flight back as soon as he was home.  Samantha was right.  Misha would be there on Monday. 

 

When he landed, he turned on his phone, realizing that he had forgotten to text Jared when he had landed in Victoria like he promised.  His phone immediately lit up with messages and missed calls.  Jensen felt his stomach sink, because there was no way that Jared would have left him more than thirty text messages ordering him to call unless something was really wrong. 

 

The second he stepped off the plane, Jensen had the phone to his ear.  Jared picked up after only two rings.  "Jared!  What the hell man, I know that I didn't text you, but you didn't need-"

 

"Hey Jen," Jared interrupted, grinning.  "You need to come over to my place." 

 

"What the fuck, Jared!  I thought something was wrong with Gen or the kids, and you want me to come over?" Jensen growled.  He pressed a hand to his face as the adrenaline rush of fear started to subside.  There was nothing wrong.  Everything was all right.  "I have literally flown across the country, twice, in the space of a day, I just landed back in Texas because Misha wasn't fucking _there-_ " 

 

A laugh sounded in the background of Jared's phone and Jensen froze, standing in the middle of the gate area.  He slammed his eyes shut, because he knew that laugh.  He knew it, down to his very bones. 

 

"Yeah, well, he wasn't there because he's at my house.  Apparently he and the kids road tripped down for their Spring Break," Jared said, winking at Misha.  "And don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to entertain them for a few hours, but they're pretty burnt and would like to crash.  At your place." 

 

Jensen felt his heart kickstart into double time and he stood up.  He threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and started running.  "I'll be there in twenty minutes Jared!" 

 

He hung up before he heard his best friend's response and he sprinted for his car in the parking lot.  Jensen didn't remember any of the drive to Jared's house, only that he sped far more than he should have.  His heart hadn't stopped pounding, and his mind was racing, because Misha was here, Misha was waiting for him at Jared's house, and that was why Misha hadn't been home! 

 

He was positive that he would need to buy new tires as he slid to a stop in front of Jared's house, throwing himself out of the car.  Jensen didn't bother locking it, he just ran for the front door, freezing as it opened and Misha stepped out. 

 

Jensen climbed the last two steps so that they were level with each other and stared at Misha.  He looked so tired and Jensen wanted to wrap Misha in his arms and never let him go.  He cleared his throat and Misha smiled at him. 

 

Jensen relaxed in the face of that grin, because it was a proper grin that represented everything that he missed.  Misha's eyes crinkled at the corners and his eyes were so bright blue in the Texas sun, Jensen was positive he'd never seen them look so beautiful.  He took two steps forward and wrapped Misha in his arms, hugging him as tight as he possibly could. 

 

Misha's arms were around his waist a moment later and Jensen melted into him, pressing his face to Misha's hair, breathing him in and the knowledge that he was _here_.  Jensen took another breath and smiled, not wanting to pull back and move just yet, because Misha was here, Misha hadn't been at home, because he was _here_. 

 

He was a little dizzy, but it was completely worth it to feel Misha clinging to him just as much as he was. 

 

Misha pulled back just enough to grin at Jensen.  "So, I've got it all figured out." 

 

Jensen didn't want Misha to move anywhere, or do anything for at least another five or ten minutes, or maybe longer, but Misha wasn't pulling out of his arms, so this was okay.  "Yeah?" 

 

"Yeah," Misha said, grinning wider. 

 

Jensen was going to listen to that plan.  He was.  But Misha, that close, with that grin, he couldn't not kiss it.  He cut Misha off and tugged him in close, one of his hands tangling into Misha's hair as they kissed.  Misha was still staring up at him and Jensen couldn't help but fall into his eyes all over again. 

 

But he wasn't about to move and stop kissing Misha any time soon, so Jensen stopped looking at Misha and just let himself feel.  Misha's lips tasted as good as they had for the weeks in Victoria and Jensen wanted to touch all of him, feel him again, because he'd been dreaming about it every night since he'd left. 

 

Misha gave his hair a small yank and Jensen pulled back just enough so Misha could smile at him again.  Jensen melted into Misha and pressed their foreheads together.  "Sorry, needed to do that," he whispered. 

 

"Don't apologize, you idiot," Misha said, tugging on Jensen's hair again.  "But like I said.  I have it all figured out.  I'm going to build a summer home here.  Then, during the rest of the year, we're going to live on the island where the kids go to school.  And if you want, of course you're welcome to live at both places with us." 

 

Jensen laughed and tightened his arms around Misha.  "If I _want_.  Don't be fucking ridiculous, Mish." 

 

Misha only grinned at him and Jensen was pretty damn sure that he was falling in love with Misha all over again with every single one of these grins.  "And, you get an added bonus." 

 

"Oh?" Jensen asked, shifting so he could press a slow kiss to Misha's forehead.  "What's that?" 

 

Misha's grin shifted into a smirk and he waggled his eyebrows.  "You get to watch me get all hot and sweaty while I build the house." 

 

Jensen couldn’t help the absolute burst of laughter that escaped him, because he loved Misha so damn much, he was perfect, and they would figure everything out.  Because they could, and they worked so damn well together.  "Sounds perfect," Jensen managed, leaning in to kiss Misha again, tugging him close. 

 

Kissing Misha was even better than he remembered, and Jensen wanted to take Misha home to his house and spend hours doing nothing but kiss him.  A cheer behind him made him pull back long enough to see Jared with Maison and West, and Gen holding Shep, with Tom at her feet. 

 

"Hey guys," Jensen said, smiling at Maison and West.  "How do you feel about me moving in with you?" 

 

They both gave an excited cheer and Jensen leaned into Misha even more.  "God I've missed you all," he whispered. 

 

"We missed you too," Misha said.  "But I'm not quite so well off that I can afford plane tickets out of the blue like you, so we needed to take a roadtrip down here." 

 

Jensen shook his head and reached up to cup Misha's face in his hands.  "I don't care, it's worth it, every single penny was worth it, and I'll fly you all back so you don't have to drive, or I'll split the driving with you-" 

 

Misha cut him off with another kiss and Jensen leaned into it.  Behind him, he heard Jared urging the kids back inside so they could have a little privacy.  He held onto Misha tighter until they both had to part for air.  "Who knew that a porch was considered private." 

 

Misha gave a bark of laughter and Jensen smiled at him again.  It didn't take him long to fall into another kiss with Misha, but he remembered that he needed to say something important.  "Mish, before we do the whole, fall into bed thing-"

 

"I know," Misha said, tugging Jensen down a little so he could kiss him on the forehead.  "I knew the day you left, and you wanted to say it, and I'm sorry for how I treated you.  But," he swallowed and looked up at Jensen.  "I had to protect my heart too." 

 

Jensen smiled and kissed Misha again, soft and gentle.  "Well, I think that you're rather good at it, all things considered.  Want to protect mine while you're at it?" 

 

Misha gave him a blinding grin, and Jensen was pretty positive that his eyes were sparkling.  "I take it that's a yes?" 

 

"What do you think about protecting mine, hm?" Misha asked with a raised eyebrow. 

 

"Hey, you're the white knight, not me," Jensen said, watching Misha laugh again.  "But I think I can do a pretty admirable job, considering." 

 

"Jen?" Misha asked, tangling his fingers in Jensen's shirt.  "Can you just..." 

 

Jensen hummed and pressed a kiss to Misha's hair.  "Can I just what?  Stay?  _Done_.  I'll be a limpet.  Forever more.  You'll hate me in a week."  Misha started laughing against him and Jensen grinned, closing his eyes.  "Tell you I love you?  _Done_.  I love you.  I love you, and West and Maison, and I want to be a part of your family."  Misha made a small noise against his shoulder and Jensen nuzzled into him again.  "Can I just tell you that you're everything I never knew I wanted?  _Done_.  You are.  You're incredible, and I will thank that storm every day for the rest of my life, because it brought you crashing into my life." 

 

"Get a room already!" Jared called. 

 

Jensen looked over Misha's shoulder at his best friend and glowered.  "Bug off!" 

 

Misha snickered and looked up at Jensen.  "I rather like him." 

 

"I do too, when he isn't eavesdropping," Jensen said, glaring at Jared until he disappeared again.  He turned back to Misha and smiled.  "You look dead on your feet.  Time to go home and crash?" 

 

Misha nodded, yawning.  "And then we drop the kids off with Jared tomorrow and we find out just how sturdy your bed is." 

 

Jensen laughed.  "Well, it wasn't built by you, so no promises." 

 

"It's okay," Misha said with a smirk. "I'll just build us another one." 

 

Jensen laughed and tightened his arms around Misha.  “Fuck I love you.” 

 

“Jensen owes a dollar in the swear jar!” West shouted from the window. 

 

Misha rolled his eyes and turned around to glare at the window.  “Stop.  _Eavesdropping_!”

 

West ran away laughing and Jensen nuzzled into Misha’s hair.  “You’re going to be telling him that when he’s thirty, you know that right?” 

 

Misha sighed.  “Yes, I do.” 

 

Jensen hummed.  “Now there’s two words I like the sound of.”  He winked at Misha when wide blue eyes turned to him.  “Just saying.” 

 

Misha’s answering laughter was the best sound in the entire world. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Criticisms welcome!
> 
> You can find me here: 
> 
> [Aria-Lerendeair ](http://aria-lerendeair.tumblr.com/)
> 
> You can also watch me write fics like this (and dozens of others) live! Follow me on Livestream for fics, shenanigans and a general all-around awesome time! http://new.livestream.com/accounts/7212317


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